Moriartys' Monster
by moriartysweb
Summary: Moriarty/OC Lyra, a numb teenage girl addicted to adrenaline gets her perfect fix when she is kidnapped by Sebastian Moran and Moriarty. After 17 years of ordinary people, her life becomes twisted and dangerous, just what she wants. However, Moriarty wants to push her to the limit and bring her into his world and create the perfect monster to use against Sherlock Holmes.
1. Chapter 1

"Lyra Harley, 17, History." I muttered to the examining assistant standing in front of my small, wooden desk surrounded by hundreds of other desks with equally exhausted looking students like me sat behind them. I loved observing in exams, I usually finish my papers early to give myself 10 minutes or so just to watch people doing what they do best, slowly dying. I couldn't help but let my mind wander in exams, and in each one I think the same thing, where we are all supposed to be building futures, really we're all just dying from convention.

" Erm…Lyra?" I snapped back into reality at the sound of the assistant's concerned voice in front of me. I looked up and saw her pitiful eyes looking into mine, her hand gesturing with the paper in her hand for me to take it. I muttered my apologies, took the paper and started scribbling away about things that happened years ago.

I walked out the exam hall to groups of students chatting excitedly about the exam, some with looks of mortification on and others of relaxation, knowing it was all over for another year. A thought struck me painfully, I realized I could see my next year as if I'd already lived it, doing the same classes, chatting to the same awfully boring people, all to be cast off to university to bury myself under enough debt to have to settle for a soul crushing job in an office.

Suddenly, I felt numb. I walked away from the crowd towards the bushes, knowing who would be there. I stumbled into the hidden hideaway, pushing twigs out of my way. I sat down on the knocked over trunk, got out my phone and texted him.

The Den. Now. Bring cigs. X

I opened up the front camera and primped myself. My long brown hair lied flat and lifeless against my pale, gaunt face, my oversized blue eyes had dark grey circles underneath and my lips were chapped from all my nervous biting of them. Then Dom arrived, he looked wary of me as he approached, but once I smiled at him he smiled back and visibly calmed down.

" God, you look dead." He sighed at me, taking his place on the log beside me whilst handing me a cig.

" I feel it." I managed to reply, and instantly knew he could see I wasn't okay.

"How's the depersonalization disorder? " Dom knew joking about my problem pissed me off, and that was why I liked him. If being pissed off is the only emotion I can feel, I'll take it.

I punched him in the arm, knowing the contact will probably stay in his mind for another week. "Shut up, I feel especially out of it today."

"You need a wakeup call you know. "

"Sorry, mental disorders don't tend to respond very well."

"What's the definition again?"

I sighed, reciting my diagnosis to him for the 50th time, bless him, he really is very slow. "Depersonalization disorder is marked by periods of feeling disconnected or detached from one's body. The disorder is sometimes described as feeling like you are observing yourself from outside your body or like being in a dream. However, people with this disorder do not lose contact with reality; they realize that things are not as they appear. An episode of depersonalization can last anywhere from a few minutes to many years. Depersonalization also might be a symptom of other disorders, including brain disease and seizure disorders."

Dom looked stunned, and then gave me a round of applause. "Well, if you don't manage to pass your exams I'll be surprised, you've got a great memory." We both knew that's all the exams tested you on really, memory.

I took a drag from my cig and exhaled, watching the smoke disappear whilst fully knowing Dom was looking at me. He'd told me two times before he loved me, but I couldn't help it that I couldn't love anything back, I'd never had a boyfriend and he was too much of a boy to even bother trying with.

"So, er, there's a party tonight. "He mumbled, raising his eyebrows in a vain manner as I examined him.

"Fabulous, where?"

"Just a mates' place, we can bus it now if you like."

I dropped the butt of my finished cig and watched it smoke onto the leaves until it went damp and stopped. I chuckled at the memory of when I left one on a field outside college and it ended up setting fire to an entire barley field, it was very funny. I didn't get caught obviously.

"Alright Dom, let's go get drunk. "

Me and Dom arrived at the party, a bottle of vodka between us. A girl no older than 16 in knicker shorts and an alarmingly bright crop top opened the door, her caked up face looking at me with disgust.

"Why she here, no one here likes her." She looked me up and down whilst my eyes went fuzzy and I spaced out, not knowing where I could be looking.

"She's alright Meg- she's with me. "

"Excuse me." I pushed her out of the way and entered. I then saw all the people in front of me and knew I'd done this party before, the same people, and same music. How dull.

And so the night went on and on, I drank the entire bottle of vodka to Doms annoyance and flirted with tens of boys, getting glares from all the pug like girls surrounding me. I felt a hundred years old. I forgot about everything I ever stress about and just danced. The thing with teenage parties is people think they're too cool to dance, but it releases something in me so why can't I do it?

Then, I felt a pair of hands on me. I was so out of it I could hardly see, but turned around and saw one of Doms friends, Niall was it? He smiled at me and I instantly knew what he wanted, and I put my lips on his. He forced my mouth open and stuck his tongue down my throat, groping me ungracefully. I pushed him off, what is it with teenage boys and not knowing how to kiss, surely no one would do it if it just felt gross?

"What are you doing you weirdo? We can go upstairs if you like." He advanced towards me again, but someone else beat him to me. Meg stomped towards me, her face red and puffy.

"How dare you! Get away from him he's mine!"

I didn't mean to but I chuckled in her face, god, I had no clue what was going on around me. Then she got right up in my face "If you dare laugh at me I will slap you, I'm not joking!"

Then my mind re-joined my body at the sound of those beautiful words.

"Please hit me, oh my god no I'm serious HIT ME, HIT ME!" I screamed, and she looked scared. I then felt Niall back away, his eyes looking wary of me, to be fair I probably did look quite demented. I then sensed Dom next to me.

" Lyra, calm down, everyone's looking." He murmured, trying to drag me away. I could feel myself falling back into darkness again, I forced myself back to Meg, who took her chance and slapped me hard across the face. The pain made tears well up in my eyes and I clutched my cheek, she stood looking as though she was gloating in front of me.

"Again, please." I said, fluttering my eyelashes at her." Then she really went for it, clawing at my face, ripping at my hair. I loved every second of it, I almost felt alive. Before I knew it, me and her were outside, the whole party gawping at us, how ordinary. A few blows to the head and I was on the pavement lying down, god knows where. I opened my eyes and saw a pair of well polished black shoes in front of me.

"Dom?" I murmured, blood trickling out of my mouth."

"Not Dom dear." A man's voice stated before bending down to examine me. God knows how rough I looked.

"Yes…you'll do just fine."

The man then turned around, and I noticed there was a black car behind him, my heart started thumping and I relished at the adrenaline, praying they'd do me the honour of murdering me.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.

He laughed, and I noticed him sweeping back his blonde hair. "No, No we're not going to kill you. We're here to recruit you."

That's when my mind started whirring, I'd heard about these men. My drunken state only let me think so far as prostitution, which was not in my fancy. I dragged myself up and started running, expecting the man to follow me but he just stood for a moment. I turned round the corner and then heard the car start, so I started sprinting. I glanced around and saw the blonde man was driving, and it caught up beside me. Then the passenger door opened and two arms grabbed me violently, pulling me into the car as I screamed, trying to scramble away.

" Shhh…shhhh don't make a fuss. Oh god, you're covered in blood- you're going to be very good aren't you?" An Irish drawl murmured into my ear, he covered my mouth with a cloth dosed in nasty smelling chemicals and the last thing I saw before I fell unconscious was a pair of beetle-like, cold and unfeeling eyes looking down at me in wonderment.


	2. Chapter 2

Moriartys POV

Seb stopped the car, quickly clambering out and opened the door next to me.

"Sorry you had to get her, here, I'll put her in the boot." He said.

"No…I'll let her stay with me for the journey. Drive, now." I murmured to my right-hand man, distracted from my examination of the sleeping angel. I sensed Seb looking at me in confusion; he was probably surprised I was letting this girl's blood get on my Westwood suit.

"Didn't you hear me I said no!" I shouted before he slammed the door and got back inside to start the engine. Once we were moving again I started my deduction, a little game I'd learned from watching Sherlock Holmes show off on his cases. Firstly I looked at her feet, she was wearing scuffed black and white converse trainers laced up, I moved my eyes up her slim, ghostly pale legs and then her inappropriately short black dress that had straps crossing her upper chest. Her prominent collarbones visible, I reached down and traced the outline with my fingers. With money, I thought, this girl could have style. Her face looked so peaceful, as if she was tucked up in bed. Her soft brown hair bounced on my knees as the car bobbed along. So appearance wise, she was attractive, I suppose she'd sell well enough. Then, I noticed a mark on her face. It was a slap, accessorized by fake nails. Her cheek was still red and there were visible scratch marks. That's when it hit me.

" Seb…." I started.

" What is it now Jim?" he replied, not turning from the road.

" She's not been beaten up by one of my men."

"How do you know?"

" She's been in a cat fight. Jesus- she looks so young because she is. We can't sell her to those men."

" What's got you feeling generous? What do you want me to do, throw her out?"

"NO!" I shouted, barely realizing my overreaction. The girl stirred, her hand knotted in her hair brushed my lap and sent a shiver down me. God, what was happening to me?. "Sorry, no. We've took her now, she knows too much. She can stay with us. "

Seb didn't say a word, pretending to understand. It irritated me. I looked on my phone and checked my news updates, Irene Adler had been in touch, and she wanted to play a game with the Holmes boys. I needed a distraction whilst I set up my next confrontation with Sherlock, and this girl could be the answer. So much potential wasted I thought, stroking her face. She could be his own Frankenstein, now that sounded less boring than sitting back and letting the Woman do all the dirty work.

When we arrived at my town house I got Seb to carry her into one of the guest houses, he lay her down on the bed and left the room, leaving me alone with her. I just stood over the bed for a few minutes, thinking, planning what things are in store for her. God, I didn't even know her name, best not to know by first names I thought, I'll call her the Girl. Maybe she and Irene could have a tea party one day, god knows they could be related.

"Goodnight girl, I'll be seeing you in the morning." I softly sang beside her. I needed to sleep, and something told me my thoughts about her would try to stop me.


	3. Chapter 3

Lyras POV

I woke up at the sound of curtains being drawn next to my bed.

"Mum, don't" I moaned, sensing the light streaming into the room harshly, reminding me of a world outside my bed. Then I realized, this bed was a lot bigger and comfier than my bed. Then a low voice that couldn't have been my mum's replied.

"Sorry, not your mum."

I opened my eyes in alarm, and saw an extremely tall, blonde, brutish looking man standing over me, hands in his pockets.

"The names Sebastian." He stated, obviously feeling a bit awkward that he didn't get the horrified response a kidnapped victim would usually do. I was very still, I couldn't remember anything, I could barely even get my words out let alone run for my life which was what my heart was telling me to do.

"Where am I?" I breathed, trying to keep my ever calm expression.

He chuckled slightly, finally moving towards the door as my eyes followed him.

"If I told you that I'd have to get one of those fancy goose feather pillows and smother you with it. Get up, there's clothes laid out for you in the bathroom. When you're ready come downstairs." He ordered before giving me one final look of disinterest before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

I got up quickly, wanting to know what was going on. I needed to find out what the hell was happening so the sooner I could get out. I then examined my surroundings, this wasn't some hostage situation in the dodgy areas of the city, this was a rich kidnapping. The high ceilings and grand four poster bed in such a spacious room told me whoever these people were, they were very high up.

Entering the swanky bathroom covered from the floor to the roof in shiny black tiles, I took my clothes off and entered the shower, turning the water on after a few moments of fumbling with the taps. I washed the smell of fags and alcohol off me, enjoying my rather luxurious start to my attempt at escape, after this I suppose it will get quite rough and tough, might even have to jump out a window. My mind felt less as though it was watching me from five feet away, and for the first time in a long while I felt fully intact with my body, feeling the impending rush.

Once I got out, I picked up the neatly folded clothes on the chair placed conspicuously in the middle of the room. Oh god, what was this? I held up before me a just about the knee length blue dress with a heart shape neck line, short sleeves and made out of a rather clingy looking material. This was very different from my usual Topshop jeans and jumpers. I shrugged it on, feeling it form to my body and shoved on the black suede heels to match. I looked in the mirror and I looked completely different, and well, wrong. I hated it, it wasn't me. I rummaged around the drawers and found a business shirt and put it on over my shorts I had with me at the party last night in case I had gotten tired of wearing a mini dress. There, now my messy wet hair matched my outfit. I smiled at my reflection, feeling good for defying my kidnappers. I waltzed out my room into the hallway and descended the stairs that ended in a hall with one door, slightly open. Through it I could see the back of a slim man, with jet black hair holding a phone to his ear.

Moriartys POV

"I know- I know I SAID I'd have it by today but it's only the morning so really, I haven't missed any deadline at all. You said I had one day, you can't just. The blubbering voice nagged at my ear down the phone as I rolled my eyes at Sebastian, sat calmly in his chair.

"You know I can tell you're an ugly crier from over the phone. It's cringe worthy really, I mean you're practically getting your snot on my tie. The delivery option is gone; I think I'll go for collection. If it's not ready for that, I'll be leaving a note on your doorstep. A very special note with fancy fireworks." I drawl, this amateur assassin new in the business came out thinking they could take the world. Power hungry and incapable isn't a good mix. They never last, but they're cheap. Plus it's fun to make them soil themselves in fear. I hang up the phone and turn to Sebastian.

"Well, off you pop. " I said. He rolled his eyes and got up, picking up the gun on the desk on his way out.

"You're taking that?" I mocked, looking at the small handgun. "Don't you want to be more adventurous? People may mistake you for an American hunny." I grinned, enjoying the teasing.

"All I need is my fists, Jim; I'm not wasting anything on these people." He fumed.

"Alright then. Have fun, but not too much that I'd be missing out." I sang before Sebastian opened the door to the girl, who stumbled into the room. So she was eavesdropping, how clever…not. And what on earth was she wearing? She stood there in my shirt, I couldn't even tell if she was wearing shorts underneath they were that short and the shirt was so big.

"Excuse me. " Sebastian smirked, making his way out, leaving me and her in the room.

"You really think it's wise to not go with my fashion advice?" I asked.

She stared right through me, though I could tell by her fidgeting she was regretting the bold decision. "I wanted be comfortable." She shrugged.

"Well, you'll find yourself getting comfy here in no time" I remarked, turning around and making my way over to the window to watch London, my playground. I couldn't look right at he looking all trussed up in my shirt, and I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Why do you need me here?" I heard her ask.

"Initially we thought you were a product. A product is a women who happily devotes herself to pleasing my customers. Being their escort and what not. "  
>"That's disgusting. "<p>

"That's the real world. Any who, we saw you were so young and I decided to keep you here for fun, tell me, what would you be doing right now if you weren't here?" I continued.

" I'd be in college, learning shit." She remarked.

" Oh DULL!" I roared, sensing her flinch at the sudden outburst. There was a small silence before she asked. " Erm, you and Seb, are you two together? I don't want to be a third wheel or-

I turned around smirking at her, striding over to her and standing above her, looking down on her widened eyes staring at me in fright.

"If you're implying I prefer men to women, girl, you are very, very much mistaken." I murmured softly. It was like watching a schoolgirl blush at dirty photos; the way she suddenly became a small creature in an unknown territory."

"Women?" she asked.

"Women, especially women who know how to dress."  
>"Well I'm a girl, so I don't need to." She defended.<p>

"I know girl, so young."

"Just because I'm young doesn't mean I can't handle it."

I saw my chance to have some fun, I grabbed a fistful of her hair, grinning at her hitch in breath and leaned down to breathe against her neck.

"If you saw the dark tunnel this entrance goes down, you wouldn't be so naively cocky, girl."

"Get off me, I'm not even 18 for a month."

I laughed manically, then suddenly pushed her against the door, pinning her to it.

"Look at you, it's so funny. Claiming you're so big and brave- you're ordinary, you're innocent. If you really wanted to become the person you want to be, a woman, believe me, you would have put on my outfit." I leered, watching her shrink. " Now go get your breakfast, your training starts this afternoon" I continued, waltzing away as she stood frozen.

"Training?" Her eyes full of fear, finally.

" Oh don't worry, just killing stuff. Elementary. Now do as I say, and go."

And with that, she left, leaving the door open so I could watch her pad her way like a dopey deer down the hall. I breathed out, I had to admit, she had the potential to be what she so wished she was.


	4. Chapter 4

Lyras POV

Oh god, that didn't go how I planned. I cursed myself as I sat quietly munching on some fancy granola for not asking anything I wanted to. I mean, whose first conversation with their kidnapper turns into some sort of petting? I can't believe he touched me like that, how someone could be so confident. It was different. My mind wandered to Dom, he was probably trying to find me. Don't worry Dom, I thought, I'll get myself out one way or another. I was just about to get up when a blood covered Sebastian entered, panting and looking around.

"Where's Jim?" he said breathlessly.

"I think he's gone. What happened?"

"Another day at the office. Come on then, if he's left me with you I guess I'll have to give you your tutorial." He leant down into the sink, turned the tap on and I watched in wonder at the water turning red as he washed his face and hair. Once he was done, he got up and gestured for me to follow him, which I did obediently.

As we were walking down the halls, I realized this was my chance to ask some questions.

"Why me then? You can't do this for all your hostages." I pried; padding along quickly trying to keep up with his lengthy strides, the man was a moose.

"Don't ask me, no one knows what goes on in Jim's head when he's bored. If it were me I wouldn't waste my time. No offence, but you're clearly incapable." He replied as we entered a room. I followed him into an ordinary looking office.

"Not exactly what I was expecting." I scoffed.

"Sorry, no chains hanging from ceilings here." He retorted, amused by my reaction.

"So, what 'training' is taking place here?" I asked.

"First part of the plan is research, and this room is devoted to it. Books, internet, evidence, all you need to know is here and you have all day to learn it completely." He waved at the room. " You need to know the industry, the client, the victim, everything. Cya around, and don't fall asleep, Jim won't be pleased."

"How come he can't tell me to do this?"

"He's got more important matters to be dealing with. I'll be back at 6pm to let you out." He closed the door and I heard the door lock before I could protest to the encasement. I rattled on the doorknob a couple of times before I heard him shouting "SHUT UP" and a gunshot, making me scurry to the desk. Once again, my plan had faltered, there was hope of escape until 6pm. 8 hours from now. I sighed and opened a scrapbook in front of me; the first page had a picture of a tall, mysterious looking man with curly hair, piercing eyes wearing a long black coat and deerstalker hat. Another man in the shot was shorter, had greying hair and a stern expression. "Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson" I read the label. Alright, if I was to prove I wasn't 'incapable' I better learn about these guys quick.

"WAKE UP!" a voice bellows, making me jolt in my seat. I opened my eyes and saw Moriarty stood in front of me, looking furious.

"Do you want me to kill you?!" he snarled.

"No-sorry, I've been in here for hours" I stutter, terrified of his outburst. How could I be so stupid?

"Well, if you've done your research you'll do fine tonight". He said.

"What's tonight?" I ask.

"We're going out. You're coming. Now hurry up and get ready. If you don't wear what I tell you to wear this time, you'll be going naked." He stated gleefully as he exited the room. I stuck my middle finger at the door before making my way back to my room. So, he's confident enough to let me out on the first night of being hostage? He must think I'm dim. And what could all my research do tonight, was I going to meet the detective and his blogger? All I knew was this was my chance. I got to my wardrobe and pick up the dress hanging on the doorknob. Oh my god, it was a frock. It was all frills and bows. What state of mind does he think I'll ever wear this? I smirk; two can play at that game Mr Moriarty. I delved into the wardrobe and picked out a scarlet red evening gown. I slide it on and look at myself in the mirror. Yes, definitely. The red contrasted powerfully with my pale skin and made it glow, there was a slit down the right leg and the back was open. I root around the dressing table and find a lipstick to match and apply it. Then I slip on the black suede heels from earlier and brush my hair so it lied gracefully on my chest. I let out a tiny giggle, I sure felt mature and sexy. A gunshot then rang somewhere in the house, my hurry up call.

I peered down the staircase and saw Moriarty and Sebastian waiting by the door, I quietly made it to the top of the steps and started going down, bringing me to their attention. I wish I could have taken a picture of both of their faces. As I descended, each step moving the slit to show my bare leg, I never broke eye contact with him. His expression changed from initial anger to something else- something darker than rage. Those beetle like eyes narrowed and after what felt like an hour, I reached them. I stood in front of Moriarty, not faltering my pride. The tension was cut my Sebastians cough.

" I'll start the car." He said, recovering.

" Ok." Moriarty muttered, not looking away from me. Sebastian left and a moment later I heard the engine start from outside.

"Don't do anything silly tonight, like trying to escape. You're already in a lot of trouble." He murmured, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I stated, impervious to his games.

"Red suits you, but you might have to tell the crooks there tonight that you're only 17, only a child." He said as he turned around, opening the door for me.

I brushed past him, not taking any notice of his patronizing ways. We both stepped out into the cold London air and Sebastian, who was leaning on the car, opened the door for me. I clambered in an did my seatbelt as Moriarty sat on the other side. We started driving and I looked out the window at all the lights of the city nightlife. All the people. I could sense Moriarty watching me and I looked down.

" Don't worry" he said " Tonight won't be half the drag today was for you. Might even get some blood spilled to match on you."

I looked up in shock. "You want me to kill?"

"I want you to try." He grinned manically as we sped off into the deeper, darker webs of London.


	5. Chapter 5

Moriartys POV

I lamely handed over my coat to the attendant, and lead Lyra into the lions lair as Sebastian took his position with his trusty sniping gun. The room was red themed-how apt- and she fit in perfectly. The table was facing the stage where an attractive but vulgar at the same time singer was performing a jazz number. Perhaps my idea to showcase her as my niece wouldn't have been so fun after all, she's got her own sense of it to showcase. I sat her down on the large circle table, filled with a range of criminals and investors who watched us warily. A bearded fat man got up ungracefully, knocking the table to pat me on the back.

"Mr Moriarty. Glad you could make it." He gruffed.

I smiled, nodded and sat down next to Lyra, who was fidgeting with her nails. I gave her my most menacing glare to tell her to act casual. In front of me were the boring eyes of past clients, my sponsors and hopeful co-workers. All with one thing in common, a hate for Sherlock Holmes. They had all been wronged by him in the past one way or another – and this was my chance to get rid of them before they got in the way of my own plans.

"So, who's this" one of the men's blonde dates said, glad to have female company for a change. I couldn't even remember her name, but I knew I'd slept with her once; she kept glancing at me in between concentrated stares at anything but me.

"This is the girl" I grin, watching Lyra as she glared at me.

"Ah, okay, the no name game it is! And where do you come into all this?" Laughed the bearded man, spraying the table with his spit. I momentarily worried, what was she going to tell them? If she gave anything away I'd have to get Sebastian to shoot her too- and that's one of my best dresses for my female guests.

"Well…" She started, her eyes boring into me, telling me she knew exactly what she was doing. "I met Jim when I was in a rather dangerous situation- on the run from these men with less than moral intentions, that's one way to put it. Anyway, he spotted me and decked out these men with his own hands and has put me under his protection." I may have gawped slightly, where did that come from?

" Somehow I doubt he himself did that! Not one of his men?" one of them scoffed.

" Oh no, I assure you sir, Mr Moriarty is one of the most modest men in London, you can take it from me he is value of your trust and time. I have no doubts and neither should you." She spoke the words with such good acting even I was entrapped for a moment. How did she know I was here to betray these people? All she knew was about the Holmes boys, and they weren't even here. She smiled at me – knowing I knew what she knew. Clever girl, I thought.

The rest of the meal dragged on, the occasional murder plot and human trafficking topics entertaining me and the rest being unbearable small talk. The restaurant was empty but our table and the time to strike was now. I decided to make my speech. I coughed in tradition and all eyes turned to me as a stood up.

" This has been a wonderful evening. I'm glad to see all your plans are so well thought out and planned, sure to bring down Sherlock Holmes. This is why…they can't happen. " I announce, watching their admirable smiles falter. " Sorry boys, Sherlock is my toy, he is all I have to prove myself, for you he is just another desirable enemy. I can't let you get in my way – I just can't. " I continue. Lyra was stirring next to me, what was she thinking? "SO basically, bye bye." I sing. Then Sebastian has his fun, as red dots appear on everyone as Lyra watches in horror. Finally some response, she was starting to seem dull. The singer and band stops- perfect, just in time as Sebastian's Beethoven collection starts playing the end to odie an die freude. I close my eyes as the dramatic classical voices pound as the screams start. They all run to the locked doors and struggle as people do. I open my eyes and see Lyra is among them, but also ahead. She had managed to escape across the stage into the back rooms. I snarl and shout. " DON'T YOU THINK MISSING THE SHOW IS A BIT RUDE GIRL?!"

Lyras POV

I ran as fast as I could, this had gotten out of hand. I knew he was plotting- but I didn't know he'd start their murder right in front of me. I run along with the rest of the people trying to get out including all the staff. I reach the door first and try to unlock it, before a red dot appears in my eyes and everyone around me goes still and quiet.

"Sebastian. Let me go." I state, my voice wavering.

"Sorry kiddo. Now go back."

"Why?! Why me!" I cry out in anguish.

"Because he wants to I'm afraid. Now listen if you don't go back I'm going to gun down these people right around you."

I look around at all the innocent faces staring at me in fear of their lives. I think of my parents ,Dom, everything. I knew after this, a return would mean giving my life to these killers. The pretty singer sobs in my face, I pat her on the back and she looks up in hope. I turn and walk away, knowing at least I'd done some good for someone. My final moment of hope was shattered behind me as I heard gunshots and screams, I knew not to look behind, it was the only thing going through my brain. I could hear Moriartys laughter getting closer and closer. Sebastian had lied to me, and now I was about to return to the monster I had tried to get away from. I reached the stage and Moriarty stood in front of it, his arms stretched out like a conductor as the loud classical music went on and on- the dinner guests taped to the seats.

"Our main act of the evening, ladies and gentlemen" he shouted, I could see he was having the most fun I'd seen since I fell into his web. He pointed at me. "You, it's you they want! Who wants to be killed by an assassin who does it for fun when you can be killed by someone who feels your pain?" He shrugged. No, he couldn't be expecting me to do this. He grabbed the blonde escort and guided her by holding her shoulders to me.

"Now, if you'd hand the magician her wand." He said as she pulled out a gun from under her dress and handed it to me, her eyes streaming. Moriarty looked from me to her.

" God, you're really holding it all in aren't you. Here, let me help you get started." He swiftly moved behind me and his hand glided up my arm slowly before reaching the gun and though in my hand, got it under his control. He aimed it at the blonde and forced my fingers to pull the trigger. He laughed as I held still, shocked. His laughing stopped when he saw my face.

" Oh come on! Still?! I've seen potatoes with more life than you, come on, cry for me girl, cry like you all do." He taunted, holding me to him. " Shoot them or Seb will finish you this time instead of those innocent staff." He said as a red dot appeared once more on me. The classical music came to a climax as I got it over with, it was like something out of a horror movie, but I was living in it. I shot them all, blood and tears blinding my vision. When it was all over I collapsed, curling up into a ball and cried for the first time in years. Moriarty knelt down next to me and picked me up, hushing me.

" Shhhh…you did great. Well, you did try to run, but you'll be punished for that later. Lets go home." He drawled, padding his way out of the bloody room and before I knew it I was back in the house, in that same bed with them two looming over me. I think I had been asleep for a long time- maybe still was- but the last thing I heard was their talking.

"You shouldn't have done that" lectured Sebastian to Moriarty.

"Course I shouldn't have- but I did. She's going to be a lot less ordinary from now on." Jim murmured, I could feel he was examining me. " She looks a right mess doesn't she? Not the prettiest crier I've ever seen. Wonder why it took her so long to break."

"Did I not tell you of the background check? She's got depersonalization disorder, can't feel barely anything- doesn't know she's alive. " Seb informed him.

"Interesting, well, this is the start to living Lyra, don't you worry. We'll fix you in no time." Moriarty said as he stroked my hair, spiking every nerve in my body. I had to keep very still so he didn't know I was awake. Sebastian left first, then Moriarty after a few moments of staring at me. They shut the door and turned off the lights. I sat up in my bed and stared out the window, seeing the world as a much darker place than before – I knew it would never be the same again.


	6. Chapter 6

Lyras POV

I watched the sun peak through the windows as it rose, the morning after the incident. I hadn't slept at all; the screams in my head were too loud. My insides felt twisted, my head was all over the place whilst my legs couldn't move from the bed. I had sunk back into depression, and I didn't even have the energy to fight. I heard a knock on the door and grimaced, pulling the sheets over my head.

"Leave me alone" I cried.

The door opened, but it wasn't Jim's steps or Sebs I could hear, it was the clicking of heels. I peeked above the sheets and saw a woman with dark hair in a twisted updo wearing a black dress walking over.

"Who are you?" I asked, affronted by the intrusion. She had paused by the mirror to check her hair and makeup, both done perfectly.

"Irene Adler, darling. Just popped in to say good morning, thought it only polite as I stayed in the same house as you." She stated. I gawped at her beauty and elegance before realizing.

"You stayed _here_ last night?"

"Jim called me, needed to be distracted by your sobs. I'm sure I don't need to give you the details of how I went about it. Anyway, thought I'd come see you for myself. Feeling better from last night?" she asked, only to raise a million more questions in my own head as she sat down on the bed next to me. I felt uncomfortable and self-conscious- I surely looked a mess.

"Erm… like my whole worlds shattered. Sorry, you and Jim are…?" I hesitated.

She gave me a sympathetic smile "Oh dear, not quite the usual housemate to run into here are you? Don't worry, I'm not Jims and he's not mine. And with last night- you can either deny it or embrace it."

That's when I snapped and shot up, pulling the duvet over me, cursing myself for not wearing a bra under my top. "How do you embrace cold blooded murder?!' I shouted at her.

"Calm down now. Just, take my advice if you want to survive." She stated, before looking back at me in admiration. "I must say, I see what he sees. So much potential. Perhaps we'll be seeing each other again soon Lyra, I'd like that very much." She leaned in and I froze as she pecked my cheek, and then stroked my front?! She grinned against my ear. "Nice. Potentially, you'll someday respond." She then got up and strided gracefully out the room, winking at me before leaving. I sat up in my bed, shocked at her confidence. Jim and Irene slept together last night, and there she was touching me like that. What sort of woman was she? She and Jim certainly had no boundaries; I could see them fitting together. I sat back in bed, mulling over what she had said. I thought before last night I could handle violence- heck, I'd loved it. But he took it to the extreme on my first night. I was a murderer- I'd been asking for something new, and I'd got it. I sighed, what had my messed up head got me into?

MORIARTYS POV

Today was the big day, the start of the great game. I grinned to myself as I dressed as Jim from IT, I'll be seeing my dear Molly Hooper today. I was feeling good after a night with the Woman and I will get to punish Lyra for her attempt at running away last night. Yes, today was going to be fun.

"SEB!" I shouted, waiting a few moments before he entered.

"What is it?" he asked, looking impatient and moody as ever.

"Take Lyra with you, can't stand the thought of her being cooped up all day." I told him.

"Somehow I doubt that's why, fine." He muttered before exiting. I heard him enter her room and tell her, followed by a couple of shouts and then a crash. I went to see what was going on when I ran into Seb in the hallway.

"Mirrors broke. She threw her brush at it. " He stated. I laughed before calling into her room " If you don't do as Sebby tells you I will skinnnn youuuuuuuuuuu" I strung out before entering her room. She was stood in the middle of the room with her duvet around her, looking furious.

"You don't even give me one day- what are you wearing?!' she gasped.

I looked down at my Topshop V neck t shirt, luminous visible underwear and chino ensemble "What, it's my casual wear?"

"Why do I not believe you?" She sarcastically droned.

I turned to Seb "Fiesty this morning isn't she?" I then turned back to her "Get dressed, casual wear should do it." I grinned and watched as she stomped into the shower room. Seb gave me one last cold look to say 'thanks for that'. Once we were all ready Seb drove me and Lyra in the car. I decided to ring Molly and she picked up before the second ring. This should be fun.

I rang Molly from the car and she picked up before the second ring.

"Jim, Hi!" she squealed, how adorable. I put on my best Richard Brook face, though she couldn't see me it was funny to watch Lyra turn her head in confusion and watch.

"Hey babe, I'm heading over now, do you wanna grab coffee?"

I heard her stutter in surprise. " Erm-yeah that sounds…great! So many bodies this morning, I need a pick me up?" she giggles, then stops as I turn silent at her truly awful sense of humour " Oh god-sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'll see you soon. Can't wait."

"Okay- bye!" she says just before I hang up and return back to Jim Moriarty, turning my head in a reptile fashion to an astonished Lyra.

"What the hell was that?" she gasped.

"THAT was my girlfriend." I stated. She furrowed her brows.

" Irene Adler?" she asked.

I laughed loudly, startling her. "The Woman, my girlfriend? That's funny that, so innocent. No, this is Molly Hooper."

"That name rings a bell."

"So it should. She was part of your research, Sherlock's Holmes's friend."

Lyra quickly reassumed her ignorant attitude, turning her head back to the view of London streets.

"Still angry at me for last night?" I ask, amused by her sub-conscious pretence.

"Scarred, angry, upset. You name it." She muttered. Seb pulled up around the corner from , he knew 'Jim from IT' couldn't be seen arriving in this car. Before getting out, I leaned over to Lyra and grabbed her knee, looking right into her eyes as she looked into mine with fear.

" You'll miss it soon enough- have a good day. Try not to attempt a runaway again." I whispered, then swiftly got out the car.


	7. Chapter 7

Lyras POV

Me and Sebastian were parked just around the corner from Baker St, where there had been a recent gas explosion and there were police everywhere.

"So, what are we doing whilst he's doing…whatever it is he's doing?" I ask.

"We're waiting, for now." He stated, not giving anything away.

I huffed, disappointed. Sebastian then turned around to me. "Get in the front seat, now. You need to see what I see." He commanded. What was he talking about? I clambered out the car, and then paused, I could run to the police now and be saved, and then I heard Sebastian open the door.

"Don't fucking think about it Lyra."

"What do you care?" I shouted, causing Sebastian to look around in a panic.

"If you don't get back in the car I'll bomb this whole street to the ground this time round."

I opened the passenger seat door and clambered in. "Alright-alright I'm in. And what do you mean this time round?"

Seb gave me a look of mischievous delight and I realized I had been silly. "So it wasn't a gas explosion, it was you? "

"Yes. Now pay attention, very soon we are going to have to run in there without any of these police men seeing us. But for now we need to watch."

Just then I saw Sherlock Holmes and John Watson exit the building and get into a cabbie. I gasped "So…this is what this is all about""

"Yes, and finally they're gone. Now, we need to pick someone to take these into the basement room of that house." Seb says as he pulls out a pair of trainers from a box. "So you can do that for me, and don't blubber this time about innocent lives lost, it's not such a waste."

"Last night was the first time I've cried in years and can you really blame me?!" I shouted, he was really irritating me now and there was no way I was going to murder someone my mum probably knew from around here. Oh god, my mum, wonder if she cares where I am. Probably not. I then noticed Seb was looking at me in interest for the first time.

"Tell me about it" he said.

"Tell you about what?" I scoffed in reply.

"Your disorder. All of it, I want to know. "

I looked out the window at all the people passing by, going about their everyday activities. "It's complicated." I muttered.

"We've got time, go on, talk about it."

"It comes from traumatic life events. Mine was drugs, as you can imagine I'm not going to go into that. I was very young…too young. For years now I've felt as though in some sort of dream…going through the motions of life without participating in it."

"Cool…" Seb murmured, I glared at him.

"Nice to know you're a good comfort." I sarcastically droned.

He chuckled. "You don't need a hug Lyra; you need to be brought into the world. So, this is your life now, a consulting criminal's apprentice-well maybe- you need to live that role right now. Now look out there, and pick somebody. "

I scanned the crowded pavements , mothers with babies, middle aged men looking fed up with their lives, groups of 'tweens' standing around, full families, friends, a head of black fluffy hair…Dom. My heart quickened, my only friend was here. My eyes followed him intensely; it was like looking into another life of mine, one that was gone. He looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks. I allowed myself to imagine running up to him and him telling me it was okay, everything was okay and no one was going to be hurt. I must've completely lost myself in the fantasy as Sebastian noticed.

"Him? Okay."

I snapped back to reality, realizing what Seb thought.

"No! No not him. Please."

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow "You know him?"

"He's my best friend. "

"Okay, him or you- don't say anything. Just do what you think is the right decision."

Of course I didn't choose Dom, and I found myself walking up to 221B Baker Street in front of all these officers. After a flutter of the eyelashes at the young one he let me through "seeing as you're the landlady's granddaughter I suppose" he said. Luckily I was experienced in breaking locks from mine and Doms adventures to enter the basement with no problem using my card. I placed the shoes in the middle of the room and stood there for a moment, thinking. Why did Seb trust me so much? I was surrounded by the very men who could free me, and he's let me go on my own. Then I realized, these were also the men looking for the murderer of 9 people in a restaurant last night. I caught my reflection in the mirror and for the first time, felt the girl staring back was entirely me, she was a murderer, but she was me. This feeling of belonging in this body, in this life, had helped me.

I then heard muttering out the door, catching a "didn't you Sherlock?" With seconds to go before they were all about to enter the room and find me, I saw there was a cellar floor door and quickly opened it, hauling myself down. I heard them reach the bottom of the stairs and open the door into the living room. Lucky escape I thought to myself, clambering back up to take a peek at them through the floorboards. He wasn't as tall as he looked in the photographs, the great Sherlock Holmes. His blogger, John entered behind and paused in front of the shoes. "Shoes." He stated, bleeding obvious I thought to myself. I watched as Sherlock starts to walk towards them but Joh holds out a cautionary hand towards him. "He's a bomber, remember." How sweet, he cares for him. Sherlock continues anyway to the trainers and crouches down, then puts his hands on the floor and leans forward, I stopped breathing for a moment, one averted gaze and he'd see me. My heart races in the fear of being caught and all goes silent, then a phone rings. Sherlock jumps at the noise and stands up, taking off his glove and answering his phone, or was it his phone; it was too alarmingly pink surely. He answers it with a soft "Hello?" On the other end a female voice draws in a shaky breath before speaking tearfully on speaker "H-hello sexy." I frowned, what the hell was this?

Sherlock replies "Who's this?"

Again, the woman speaks sounding as though she is having some sort of breakdown. "I've sent you… a little puzzle…just to say hi." Then I realized this wasn't the woman's choice of words, this was Jim, speaking through her.

"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" Sherlock asked.

"I-I'm not ... crying ... I'm typing ... and this ... stupid ... bitch ... is reading it out.

Sherlock murmured to himself "The curtain rises.". After some bickering with John he revealed he had been expecting this for some time, and then the woman spoke again.

"Twelve hours to solve…my puzzle, Sherlock… or I'm going to be so naughty."

The three men looked at each other and swiftly exited the room, I breathed out in relief then once I was sure they were gone, left myself. Once back in the car with Sebastian, he genuinely looked pleased.

"God you took your time." He said as I strapped myself in.

"I was in the same room as them I could hardly leave." I said, Sebastian looked shocked at how dangerous the small job had got. " So now I've done that for you, will you please tell me what's going on?"

"I'll get Jim to talk to you for once this evening okay? For now, we're going to Bart's hospital."

Once me and Seb got to Barts, he led me up to the morgue. " Now this isn't a job, just having a bit of fun. Go into there and throw a tantrum about wanting to see your grandmother again, one last time."

"What?! How many 'grandmothers' am I making up today?"

"Believe me it'll be fun."

I gave him a stern look before putting on my best emotional face and fake stomped into the morgue, where I recognized Molly Hooper, Sherlock's friend from the research. So Jim will be around, I suppressed a smirk, Seb really does like to wind him up. She looked up and saw me, dropping her petri dish.

"Oh god- sorry, erm you can't- you can't be in here, is there something I can get you-sorry is there something the matter?" she said as she stood in shock. I made my way over to her, flailing my arms about.

"Please, can I see my grandmas body?! Please! Its my last chance." I cried, holding onto her arm.

"I'm so sorry- I can't do that. But I can get you a coffee if you'd like? If you need somebody to talk to- It can get quite lonely here with all the bodies." She froze "Oh god, sorry."

I shaked my head, doubling over in fake pain "It was just so sudden. Thank you so much you're so lovely. What's your name?" I asked in between sobs.

"Molly Hooper, what's yours?" she said.

" Effy." I lied.

"Oh that's pretty- listen I was just going to see my friend in the lab-"she started, but at the sound of the door opening she looked behind me, her face lit up. "Jim!" She breathed. I turned around and saw Moriarty looking down in a fake shy manner. "Hi Hun-"It was then his turn to pause as he saw my face. A look of anger so fleeting not even Molly would have caught it made him also give away his disguise, but he soon enough recovered. Molly looked at me as Jim came round, sliding his arm around Molly and planting a wet kiss on her head. "Sorry, this is my boyfriend, Jim. He works here too. Up in IT. Jim this is Effy.

Jim raised an eyebrow "Nice to meet you, Effy." He said, I had to admit he was better at acting than me. Molly glanced between us nervously "So, me and Effy were just gonna go next door and say hi to Sherlock, and then grab some coffee. "

"Coffee with me and now coffee with friends? You're neglecting work a lot today, naughty girl." Jim teased, making Molly blush madly. I had to hold my vomit in, and Sherlock was here now? But at least I'd get to meet him this time.

The three of us made our way into the lab, Jim lagging behind. I dared a glance behind and the look he returned was not one of amusement at the situation, but of fury. My stomach turned just at looking into his eyes as I realized this was Sebs idea of a twisted prank on me. Of course a psychopath criminal wouldn't respond well to my intrusion.

I enter behind Molly into the lab where Sherlock sat with a microscope as John stood behind him as Molly said "Any luck?"

Sherlock replied triumphantly. "Oh, yes! "

"Who's this" John inquired.

Molly started "Oh! This is Effy she's-"just then Jim smacked into the door Molly had let go of and then came through apologetically looking at Molly. "Oh, sorry. I didn't..." he wavered.

" Jim, Hi!" she said, as if she hadn't just been with him, I roll my eyes as Jim makes as if to leave but Molly stops him, which unfortunately Sherlock caught, he thinned his eyes at me as I looked anywhere but back at him.

Molly goes through the social norm of introductions, which I note Sherlock Holmes is terrible at as he focuses on the microscope. I then watch as Jim wanders over to Sherlock " So you're Sherlock Holmes. Molly's told me all about you. You on one of your cases?" he said in that annoyingly good fake London accent.

Molly repeated her story to me proudly to the group "Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That's how we met. Office romance."

Sherlock finally looks up at Jim before murmuring "Gay." I nearly choke trying not to laugh at the look on Mollys face. After realizing what he'd done, Sherlock raised his head again "Nothing, um hey." He smiled as Jim stared back at him admiringly. "Hey he replies." Before knocking a metal fish off the edge of the table with a clutter and scrambles to pick it up." Sorry, sorry!" He giggles. Me and John simultaneously put our faces in our palms as Jim excuses himself out the room after confirming a later date with Molly at the Fox and saying once last goodbye to Sherlock telling him " It was nice to meet you." Which John replied for. I decided staying would only get me into a muddle and pretended to receive a text.

"Sorry, Molly, we'll have to do coffee another time I'm running late for something. But it was nice meeting everyone." I awkwardly state, aware of my confusing presence in the room of friends. They all look at me blankly and I mutter as I make my way out. I run after Jim and catch up in the corridor, tapping him on the shoulder. But I'd forgotten the man he had been in that room with me wasn't him, and the terrifying Moriarty was angry with me. He turns around at my touch on his shoulder and glares at me, both of us stopping mid walk.

"Do you have- any-idea how stupid that was?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry it was Sebs idea." I garbled.

"But you went through with it didn't you? And you enjoyed it." He pushed me against the wall, face inches from mine.

"Y'know why I chose you Lyra? Because I wanted to change you, now if you refuse to do that, I can force you into so many worse things than being mine. You could be a pimps crack whore, you could be bound in a cell, I could torture what little life there is inside of you. And I will, believe me, I will. I can handle you trying to run, what I can't handle is you interfering with my plans for Sherlock Holmes and trying to ruin them. You saw how I handled my competition last night; don't think I'd do that to you huh?" He snarled as I tried to squiggle out of his arms.

Just then heavy footsteps broke the silence around us in the empty corridor and Jim quickly reassumed to 'Jim from IT' as Molly came into view, I had already bound round the corner and was running to the car out front. Before I left though I heard her say nervously to Jim "Jim, I think we should stop this."

I reached the front where Sebastian was waiting, by his facial expression I knew he'd heard his reaction, I bounded furiously towards him.

"And to think I thought you had some sort of human decency in you!" I shouted at him, hitting him with no effect, and I went on to sob into his t shirt.


	8. Chapter 8

Moriartys POV

I entered my townhouse in deep thought; I couldn't believe I had wasted all that time listening to the unbearably boring stories of Molly Hooper when there was John Watson. I could see he cared for Sherlock, and for some unknown reason Sherlock lied having him around, though his bliss ignorance denied this.

I entered the sitting room where Sebastian sat polishing his rifle; he looked up and saw me standing in a daze by the door.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Molly Hooper just fucking dumped me." I grumbled. Seb scoffed and went back to cleaning his rifle, but I could sense he was fearing one of my 'hissy fits' as he calls them. A tense silence passed as he concentrated on his beloved rifle, my eyes bored into him until he looked up.

"Don't be angry at her, be angry at me." He stated. Well, that was not what I was expecting to hear.

"Whoa, you're actually defending her? Getting sentimental are we?" I teased.

"She's dysfunctional Jim, you should know of all people not to take advantage of delicate people." He scorned. I pulled a face; this wasn't going exactly how I planned.

"Would you kill her if I asked you to?" I piped up gleefully.

"Of course. Gets her hardship and mine out of the way." He said, returning back to the heartless assassin. I leaned back, more relaxed now that things felt in place, less confusing and turned over. If they were becoming 'whizzer chums' it'd get in the way of me having my fun and making her a second me. I then looked back on when I saw her there with Molly Hooper, she was a pretty good actress, but then again Molly was a fool. Perhaps she could do less than household chores in my game with Sherlock Holmes, maybe she could befriend him, and she seemed to soften Seb easily enough into caring for her. Perhaps in the future, I wasn't ready to send her out into the battlefield just yet, and she was still due a good punishment for her behaviour.

I wandered into the kitchen and caught her sniffing around, wearing an oversized t shirt and leggings which infuriated me but I kept my composure.

" Lyraaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" I sang, making her jump up and turn to face me, looking terrified. "Is someone a bit peckish?"

She folded her arms over her chest and stood awkwardly on the spot as I approached the counter. "I'm starving, I haven't eaten for a day and you have nothing in."

I mimicked her dull tone "Oh, I'll just pop down Tesco's then."

"I'm serious, please, feed me." She said, looking up at me with her startling blue eyes. I looked right back into them, unafraid of showing her I was in control, when really what she had just said caused a dull ache in my stomach of anticipation. Easily shaken off I thought, human error is a burden we must all face. But it did remain with me the fact someone so young could do that, perhaps her innocence was pretence, I'll remember to pry into that someday.

"We're having dinner tonight. Not like last night, just us two. Out, somewhere hidden, how does that sound?"

"Like hell frozen up." She replied tartly.

I stood so close to her she had to tilt her head back to look at me, but she didn't back away. "It's funny how you continue to be so bold, when each time I scare you, you go crying to Sebastian. Maybe you should learn your lesson." I barely whispered.

"It's more fun this way, what use would I be obeying every command?" She taunted. I had to admit, the nerve was refreshing.

"Well- if you want to eat, you'll be ready for eight. I'll be sending someone over to help you get ready." I murmured as I walked away from her, planning on surveying Sherlock as he tries to solve my puzzle before the dinner.

"Who? Why?" she called after me, I smirked to myself as I left the room, dialling Irene on my phone.

Lyras POV

I lied down on my bed, bored. I began to think of all the people I would miss if I had a normal head. My mother wasn't anything to me; she was too self-absorbed and barely saw me anyway, so there's one ticket off the list. I had to admit, though he was just a small comfort in the face of things, Dom really was my only friend, and I his really. I wondered how he was doing, seeing him today was strange, and I wondered if I'd ever get back to that life. Moriarty seemed the type to drop people once their use was gone, how he would drop me was a fear that terrified me. I just had to survive until then and see what happens. For a moment I considered what college would do about me, I was just another face in the classroom; they probably would make up some bullshit about how I was a wonderful girl and student when they find my body in a ditch somewhere. If I were to be honest, these recent days have been extraordinary, terrifying and painfully scarring, but different. Someone knocked on the door and I heaved myself up to open the door to Sebastian.

"Yes?" I asked shortly.

"You're stylist is here." He said, trying to suppress a grin as he said it.

"Oh for god's sake who-" I started, before shoving past him to find out. I descended the stairs and entered the sitting room to see her, Irene Adler, sat in a white knee length dress on the couch.

"Hello again, Lyra Harley." She smiled at me, her eyes twinkling.

"Hi, where is he?" I asked, trying to avoid looking back into her eyes.

"Jims' busy, so us girls have got a couple hours before your date." She said as she got up. " I don't give men favours easily you know, so you should know this is special. Now come on- we need to get you ready, believe me, we'll be aaaaages."

She took my hand and led me back upstairs and we entered my bathroom, she sat down on the chair and took her boots off as I leaned on the sink, this woman made me so confused, what did she want?

"Why are we in here then?" I say to her.

" No offence darling but you look as though you've been through a lot today, don't want that to affect your appearance. We need a shower."

My mouth dropped open, shocked by her confidence. " What makes you think I want a shower with you?"

She looked at me pitifully " Look, you've been locked up with these two men for days now, aren't you in the mood for some girl company? I do it with lots of my friends, it's fun. Or are you too self-conscious?" She stood up, now level with me without her heels. I thought to myself, it's now or never to prove to her she wasn't above me, I hated being intimidated. I wrenched my top off and she smiled.

"Good, now I'll take it from here. Don't worry, I won't touch you." She soothed, I closed my eyes as she slid my pants down and took off my underwear. This was so messed up. She took off her own clothes as I kept my eyes shut and turned on the shower, leading me into the steam. I faced the shower wall as she stood behind me, shampooing my hair.

"Are you gay?" the question blurted out before I could bite my tongue.

I heard her tut behind me. "Honestly, are you so normal?" she taunted.

"Sorry-no, I'm just used to boys." I blabbered, feeling very foolish as she massaged my scalp.

"I know you are, not as innocent as you make yourself out to be are you? Somebodys had you.

"It's been a long time; it was a different part of my life."

"Sex drugs and rock and roll, I know, I looked you up."

"Stop it." I muttered, any mention of two years ago tormented and embarrassed me. She then shifted me so I was facing her and the water was running the shampoo out my hair.

"Open your eyes, Lyra." She whispered.

I opened them and my eyes fleeted down her flawless pale body, so alike to mine. She smiled as my cheeks flushed red and then reached for the conditioner. After she had finished with my hair, she picked up the sponge and held it up in front of me.

"This okay? I won't take advantage of you honey."

I nodded, feeling extremely shy. She started on my arms, working the sponge up and down, lathering me in a luxurious honeycomb scented soap. I started to let myself go and enjoy her touch, it was a sweet change to Moriartys brutal hands. She took down the shower head and began rinsing me, when she held it over my chest I accidentally let out a giggle and she smiled.

"Sorry- that felt weird" I laughed.

" Wow, you're not so familiar with this device are you? Here, don't say anything, you're going to love this Lyra, and I promised I wouldn't touch you myself but this is different…trust me."

She positioned herself right behind me and I turned my head to look at her in alarm, what was she going to do? She then rinsed the rest of the soap off my legs by running it up and down. She then put it in between them and I gasped at the feeling. It was her turn to giggle then as she watched me regain myself.

"More?" she asked.

I hesitated, this was so messed up.

"Do what you want, Lyra." She continued.

I nodded feebly, and she went for it. My mind stopped overthinking and my whole body thanked me as the water against my clit made me convulse. Pleasure spiked every part of me and Irene kept it going on and on.

"Irene, I'm gonna- gonna" I attempted a sentence, but I couldn't remember anything.

"Let go." She whispered against my neck and gave it a slight peck and I did, screaming garbled words as my body beckoning for the final time. I lied down on the shower floor, feeling spent out. She sat down and held me in her arms, cradling me like a child.

"There we go, bit more in the mood for tonight are we? Not that I think Jim would touch you, still see's you as a girl, unlike me. Now come on, we need to hurry up, gone overtime." She picked me up and sat me down on the chair, drying me with a soft towel. My mind came back to me as I realized what I had just done. Oh god, if Sebastian's in he would have heard that screaming. Then again, he's probably used to it if she spends time with Moriarty. So I didn't expect my first experience in two years to be with a woman, but there we go. I was still in a daze as she wrapped the towel around me and let me do the wardrobe. I had to admit; I wasn't as irritable as before and smiled weakly as she browsed.

"Aha" she said, pulling out a simplistic black dress with no back. "Knew I left this here, this is for you." She took if off and hanger and held it against me.

"Sure it's not too fancy?" I said, looking down at the ankle length gown.

"Where you're going, it needs to be. Now come on, make-up and hair and then this." She led me to the dressing up table, I had to say, she knew how to play people.

Moriartys POV

I was stood outside smoking a cigarette when Irene Adlers car pulled up, I smirked and took a drag, awaiting to see her creation. The door opened and I saw Lyra get a kiss on the cheek and a wink from Irene in the backseat before getting out. I was impressed; she looked more like a woman than ever. She walked over to me with confidence, her hair was in a fancy updo and her makeup was precise, none of that amateur stuff. She eyed my cigarette greedily and I offered her a drag

"No thanks, done with that shit." She said, a smile playing on her lips telling me she had a fun afternoon. Oh I know you have Lyra, I know you have.

"As you wish, shall we go inside?" I said, throwing the fag end away and putting my hand on her bare back, leading her through the doors. My fingers traced her backbones and I peeked at the showing dark freckles, such pretty and delightful imperfections.

As we sat down at our table in the crowded yet quiet dining hall, I checked my watch and said to myself "2 hours left." Lyra looked up, confused.

"We're here for two hours?" she asked.

I shook my head. "It's to do with Sherlock, but why say it like that? Two hours is perfect, we might even have time for dance." We both look towards the couples so intertwined in their waltzes on the dance floor they might as well be one.

"So, are you going to tell me what today was about?" she inquires.

"That's why we're having this dinner. I need to run by you the plan."

"Oh, so tonight's all business" she murmured, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

"Tut tut, underage drinking. And why, thought this was a date?" I say.

"No" she defended. "I want to know the plan, the woman called it a date anyway." She smirked at me, thinking that was her win. Oh how silly she was.

"Yes, I'm sure she did. I didn't know this afternoon was supposed to be a date between you two either but she still managed to get you to take off your clothes for her, didn't she?"

Her jaw dropped open and she blushed furiously. " How can you possibly know-" she started, but at that moment the waiter arrives with our food, making her even redder I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing. Once he had gone she continued as if she had forgotten the conversation and we ate our food silently. Once we were done and a little tipsier, she asked me another question.

"So, where is the woman?"

"I don't know Irene Adler could be-"I started, perhaps getting her to open up to Irene wasn't the best idea.

"No not her, the woman with the bomb currently strapped to her. The one you're texting her lines to under the table."

"Oh you're rather good, heard my voice through someone else today did you?"

"Only someone obsessed with Sherlock Holmes would be brave enough to call him sexy." She smiled as I did, she was improving I had to say.

"Yes well Lyra, she needs to be kept entertained in her last minutes. That's if Sherlock doesn't win the first game, which will be slightly disappointing. Now, I'm feeling sluggish, come dance with me?" I asked, feeling slightly drunk and a little higher off the game and Lyra's looks.

I guided her onto the spacious and classy dance floor and we blended in with the couples well. I drew her into my chest and we danced along. The music began to quicken and as it did I could have sworn the timer went quicker with it. Lyra began to move well, she really could dance. We began competing with each other, each glance darkening the room. I could feel her warming to me. I then refreshed the web page on my phone, hoping Sherlock wasn't keeping it too short. I then saw it, he had typed "FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989). Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St." Oh clever boy, I laughed manically and Lyra backed away, looking slightly scared. But then I drew her in close and said to her "He got it! We can go on to the next game. Be happy Lyra." She looked into my eyes and then a smile stretched slowly across her face and we danced in celebration of the great game. I texted the message to the bombed up woman probably crying her eyes out and let her go. But when I looked up, Lyra wasn't across me on the dancefloor. I craned my neck around the room, I couldn't see her anyway. She had escaped, now it was my turn to be tested, she had to be found.

"Clever Lyra" I muttered. "Almost had me there didn't you."

And with that, I ran out the restaurant on my hunt for her.


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHORS NOTE:

I won't be updating until Sunday as I want to get ahead with the story before posting it, but I've made a trailer for you all to see it a bit more visually and give you a teaser into the future story! Thank you for all the reviews/keep them coming, ones on the video would be nice as well!

watch?v=04GZbEcxUPo&feature=

Lyras POV

I darted through the kitchen, knocking over numerous plates of food and shoving past confused waiters. I heard a "Hey, you can't do that!" from behind me before I bounded out the fire escape door and into the streets. Everyone looked so normal, the average city crowd bustling around minding their own business. I tried to calm my heart rate as I joined them, allowing them to take me in the tide as I tried to think of where to go. I then remembered my little encounter had left her address in my notebook before we left.

I hailed a taxi to her house, which was on a very fancy street, not surprising. I buzzed the intercom and a voice not belonging to her replied "Yes, can we help you?" I paused, who was this then?

" Erm, it's Lyra. Please, tell Irene I need to come in. Quickly." I stuttered.

There was a moments silence before the door opened and a red headed young woman answered, looking me up and down as Irene appeared behind her.

"What is it Lyra? Where's Jim?" She asked, looking out the door and down the road for his car.

"Please, I've ran. You have to help me, can I stay here?" I splutter, unable to get my thoughts right. Irene nodded at the redhead.

"Well Kate, we have a visitor. Make her welcome." She said as she walked back into the house as Kate and I followed. Kate disappeared into the kitchen and I stood in the magnificent hall, admiring the interior. Irene opened a drawer under the huge mirror and stayed facing it as I decided to fill her in.

" I saw my chance and ran, I know he's got eyes everywhere but you were the only person I thought had the power to keep me from him-" I froze as I turned to see her pointing a gun at me, she looked cracked, the cool, hard exterior was melting.

"You need to get out, Lyra."

"I thought….I thought you liked me." I mumbled, what a great defence I was putting up under gun point I thought, flinching as I hear Kate scoff behind me, I turn to see her shaking her head at me. Oh god, I've been a fool. I had to get out, but where would I go?

"It's a funny world you people live in" I spat at her.

"Yeah, well, betraying Jim Moriarty would be too foolish, you really do underestimate him. I'm so sorry Lyra- I didn't realize. Now go, I'm sorry, but you can't be here." She replied, her hands shaking with the gun.

"Please, at least get me to somewhere else, a car ride or something." I coughed, trying to suppress the tears of betrayal.

Irene hesitated before answering " Fine, but only because I don't want you found on the outside pavement, he'd know." She gave me a cold stare as she said it and I shook, unable to believe I had been so easily fooled by the woman.

"Life saving favours aren't as easy to give as sexual ones are they?" I asked her, knowing this was most likely the last time I'd see her, tonight could result in death. She turned on her heel and walked up her stairs, not looking back at me.

Her private driver drove me outside his house, it was about a half hour journey and I had had plenty of time to swear to myself never to trust these people again. I knew this was dangerous, coming here, but I needed a real friend. I climbed out and he sped off, leaving me stood outside, looking up at his bedroom window. I picked up a pebble and chucked it at the glass, an old tradition of ours. The curtains ruffled before his black hair appeared, following by baggy eyes and a vacant expression. My Dom, my sweet, ordinary Dom. He scanned the garden for a moment and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. I held up a hand in a wave and he disappeared, only to open the front door for me in his pyjamas.

"You get home alright?" He goofily grinned. I smiled and hugged him as tightly as I could.

"Yeah, I'm home." I cried, tears streaming down my eyes in happiness. He pulled me inside and I let him go to look around my second home. Everything was how it was when I last saw it, the piled up newspapers of his, the comfy couch we always fell asleep on after parties. He sat down in his usual spot and patted the seat next to me friendly. I sat down and faced him.

"I don't expect you to fill me in, to be honest I was expecting you to return looking a bit rougher." He laughed; I punched him in the arm playfully.

"Hey, don't be mean-"I giggled back.

" I'm joking, you look good. A lot older, weirdly." We sat laughing for a few moments, I really did appreciate how he understood this wasn't the time for an interrogation. My tiredness washed over me and I closed my eyes, but regretted it immediately. His face appeared as I closed my eyelids and then disappeared as soon as I opened them. I paused, silence filling the room, pretending everything was normal would only be a comfort, but I was in the most danger I'd ever been in. I don't know if they'd find me, I don't know how they could, but the fear made my insides turn.

"Hey, you need a pick me up." Dom said, looking at me warily.

"A drink would be lovely." I murmured, I needed to stop thinking.

" Pffft- you don't want a depressant. And I have the perfect stimulant, parents aren't in" He says as he reaches into his sweatpant pockets and pulls out a clear packet of white powder. "I know it's been a while, I got it to relieve the stress of looking for you, troublemaker."

I eyed the packet cautiously, I hadn't done drugs since it caused my depersonalization disorder, but as I'd been feeling better the past few days, perhaps it would be okay. I nodded at Dom, giving him a mischievous smile, the homecoming started here.

" Oh my god I AM GONE" Dom shouted, half an hour later after we had shared the MDMA as we danced around like loons in the garden, playing Sum 41 loudly to annoy his neighbours. I span around and around, looking up at the stars as we giggled hysterically with one another. I tripped over his mum's stupid flower patch and stayed lying down, struggling to get my legs to co-operate with my brain enough to move.

" Hey, Lyra, what are you doing?" Dom blubbered.

"Just…lying. Lying to…you? Lying down… I don't know" I reply, god this was messy. He lied down next to me and we simply watched the stars in peace for hours it could have been.

"So, tell me mystery girl, where were you?"

I was too high to keep my stupid mouth shut. " I was kidnapped by a prince."

"A prince, and how was he a prince?"

"I'd never say this to him, but he was everything I could ever want. But I can't have him. Doesn't that make you want to cry?" I murmured, starting to descend from the clouds.

"What's his name?" I heard the pang of jealousy in Doms voice.

"Jim…" I whispered, staring up into the darkness which only reminded me of those beetle like eyes. I got up, brushing the dirt off me. "Come on, bed time."

He followed me into his bedroom as I picked out one of his oversized t shirts to sleep in, clambering into his bed and leaving room for me. I climbed next to him and he held me. He never asked for more Dom didn't, he ignored his own desires for my friendship. Tears sprung to my eyes as I realized I couldn't be a luckier girl with such a good friend, it was a shame I couldn't fall for a guy like him. My heart stopped for a moment as I realized I had admitted not just to myself, but to him the strange feelings I had for the consulting criminal that could never be surfaced.

"Go to sleep Lyra." He murmured, god, he could even sense me thinking.

"Love you Dom." I murmured.

I felt his muscles stiffen and his breath stop before he coolly recovered and breathed out in a casual way "Love you too trouble." And with that, I fell asleep feeling safe.

Moriartys POV

Seb parked up outside the kid's house in the hideously neat and cosy estate, I sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating what to do.

"You want me to go in?" Seb broke the silence and I threw my gun at his head, I still hadn't calmed down from my earlier fit of frustration at the girl. He took the blow fine and resumed sitting in silence. I chuckled to myself.

"Y'know, to think she went to Adler for protection, isn't that ironic? And now she's handed her in in return for protection, isn't that funny Sebastian" I start hysterically laughing "Isn't that just… hilarious?!" I shout as I open the car door and stride to the house, all geared up. I heard Sebastian open his door and get out, catching up with my quickly. I hated how tall he was sometimes.

"Jim, don't wake up the whole street. This needs to be done quietly." He warned, giving me the look of his common sense trying to undermine my madness. I stared right back at him, shaking my head.

"I've had it, Seb. Sorryyyyyyyyyyy." I stretched as I opened the door, unlocked, typically stupid isn't she? I went up the stairs so slowly, enjoying each tense creak of the stairs. I reached the top and opened the boys' bedroom door and what I saw made my blood boil. The girl who couldn't feel- who didn't like people touching her was curled up in his arms. So this is the friend-zoned poor soul? I stood there for a minute, just watching them. Once I sensed Seb behind me I pulled my gun out my pocket and pointed it at the foot of the bed and fired so close to their little feet. They both screamed and scrambled, I saw his hands grab onto her, how sweet. Their dilated eyes darted around and when they looked into mine I recognized the symptoms. Oh naughty Lyra, she's lost control and gone back to drugs. But I was no longer in the mood for teasing, I was in the mood to carry my word through, she was going to get what she deserved.

Lyra whimpered, holding her head and rocking it. "No, please, it's just a dream, you're not here, you're not here. It's a nightmare, just a bad dream, wake up, wake up!" She screamed, god coming down from drugs really wasn't her strong point. Dom sat stunned, holding onto her shoulders, trying to calm her down. I smirked at him and the words that came out his mind surprised me for such a dull looking boy. "You're Jim…" He said. I scoffed, so she'd talked about me, and called me Jim? Now I came to think about it, I'd like her to call me by my first name, I'd love her to scream it. I looked at Seb and nodded. He shoved past me and grabbed the boy as he tried to resist, flailing his skinny arms about as Lyra squeezed herself so much into the corner of the bed next to the wall she could have been part of it. I sat down on the end of the bed as the boy's screams became distant along with Seb's footsteps.

"So, you're a cuddler?" I smiled.

She didn't look at me, her breathing was so fast and loud it distracted my thinking. It sounded as though she was in an entirely different situation in this bed. I took the rope out of my pocket and admired her look of bewilderment.

" If you make a fuss, I'll only make this worse." I warned her, but she lashed out, clawed at me in an attempt to get away. With one easy move I trapped her under me and trapped her hands in my grip, one squeeze and I could break them. I tied her hands to the bedpost then climbed off her and dialled Seb, watching the tears well up in her eyes.

" Hi honey, could you put yourself on speaker? We both wanna hear this."

Seb didn't reply, and I put him on loud as well. There were some muffles before a unmistakable slap and a cry from the boy. Lyra wailed at me. "No, please, anything." God, I leave her two minutes and she resorts to using the lamest lines in kidnap history. I then sit so close to her she can't not look into my eyes and feel the cheap material of the boys top on her.

"Don't make me gag you Lyra, you've got such a pretty whimper. So let's keep it at that, don't want to drown out his screams do you?" I whispered as I cut the top open with my pen knife. I put my mouth against her stomach, simply resting on her for a moment, breathing her in. Then the boys screams start again from the phone and she whimpers again, sending me into euphoria. I smile and bite down on her stomach which contracts at the contact. I then move up to her chest and continue leaving my marks, making her know where she really belonged. Each time the boy screamed I felt her more, kneading her breasts and keeping her eyes fixed on me. Then, that blissful silence fell on us, and the phone line went dead. Bit rude Seb, thought we'd do the 'no you hang up' game. I smiled darkly up at her before getting up and wandering over to the boys desk. I picked up his portfolio camera and snapped a picture of her, looking so good with her clothes ripped and red marks forming all over her, her eyes still big from being high still and her hair a frizzy bunch of curls. The picture printed and I left it on the side.

"There, now we have a suspect." I said, and she let out all her tears. I untied her and she cried on and on as I carried her outside. Before putting her in the car, I made her stand up, in her shredded top and underwear. She looked at me with all the disgust she could muster before I played with her one more time.

"This place so reminds me of the first night we met Lyra, you know? Should we do a re-enactment? I want you to run down the street, like you did that night. " I pointed my gun at her, showing her this wasn't one of my little jokes. " Off you pop". She turns around and runs pathetically slowly in her bare feet, wincing at the pain. I climb in the car and Seb starts to drive after her, looking incredibly bored, almost in pain at watching. Or was it boredom?

We drove next to her and I saw she was uncontrollably sobbing, it was such a funny sight.

"Hey, you look a bit nippy! Need a ride?" I smile, putting on my best friendly citizen face.

She looks down at her barely covered body and stops, I saw I had weakened her enough for her to let me have it all.

" Or maybe you're now a suspect of a boys murder, like you were for all those crooks in the restaurant and need a place to hide?" I continue, grinning on my own high. Lyra then approaches the car window and she looks up at me.

" You'll lose your throne one day you know, all this, it will all turn to dust. And I'll be there to stand and watch." She stated, her emotionless mask painted back on. I lean forward and peck her on the cheek and she looks away.

" Oh come on, you're not still shy of me are you? Two criminals in one day girl, perhaps you're not such a bambi."

I reach into my pocket and pull out the injection, stabbing it into her arm and drag her into the car through the window. Seb starts the engine once more.

"And the games resume." I murmured. But this time I wasn't going to take mercy, I would have her locked up until needed for Sherlock, then she'll learn.


	10. Chapter 10

Lyras POV

I could hear him, somewhere on the dark path. I was running along it- running away, but the shadows were closing in. My heart rate fastened as I whipped my head around, trying to find where the blood-curdling screams were coming from. His face was everywhere I looked, my eyes forming an alliance with the dark to trick me into thinking he was there. I then tripped, falling on my face and couldn't get up, as if a building was on my back. I craned my neck away from the dirty footpath and saw piled on me were bodies- hundreds of bodies with his face, all looking at me in sad disparity.

"DOM!" I screamed as loud as I could, jolting up to a different sort of nightmare. My eyes darted open and I realized my back was in pain from sleeping on a hard surface. I looked around and saw I was in a cage- on the floor of a room I hadn't been in before- a bedroom. I was at the foot of someone's bed, was this moriartys room? I then looked down and saw what I was dressed in- that damn frock. The puffiness, whiteness and ribbons making me look like I was from the Edwardian period. After all this, he just wants to humiliate and demean me. I put my head in between my legs, trying to get Dom out of my head, he was dead, and there was nothing I could do. The sadness washed over my unexpectedly, as I realized my one and only friend was gone forever. Though I always struggled to feel attached to anything, now that Dom was gone, all I wanted was to have him back. A sidedoor then opened and Moriarty walked out in just a towel, towel drying his hair with another. He looked up and caught me watching him- a grin breaking out on his face.

"So I did hear you wake up, you always that loud? Well, Irene would know that." I heard him say as he opened his wardrobe, a simple row of expensive looking suits and that horrible 'Jim from IT' concoction shoved in the corner. He picked out one and laid it out on the bed, then walked over to me and leaned down, peeping through the cage bars as I glared back at him.

"You enjoying your new home? You make such a nice home cat, capable of being a predator, but too lazy to actually do it. And also you look precious in a cage. "He murmured, examining me, waiting for me to lash out at him, but I confined myself to not giving him the satisfaction. This man wasn't human at all- I couldn't let myself believe there was a caring side in him for me like before, at dinner. After a few seconds of intense silence my stomach betrayed me and growled.

"Hungry, are we?" He chuckled, and then cocked his head towards the door. "Seb, feed your pet will you?!"

Moriarty got up and moved behind a screen to get changed just as Seb walked through, I glimpsed him look at me momentarily with something odd in his eyes- as if he had a secret. He then turned to embarrassment, seeing me in this humiliating state.

"She's not my pet." He scowled.

"Well you're the one that got sentimental about her, strange." Moriarty replied whilst putting on his suit.

Seb walked over to me and handed me a sandwich, which I refused to take through the cage, shaking my head and backing into the corner of the small, confined space. He sighed, ruffled his hands through his hair and left it next to me.

"Starve then" he muttered at me before looking back, and his eyes genuinely held something very heavy and sorrowful. Moriarty then appeared from behind the screen, his suit fitting him perfectly which he clearly knew by the way he swaggered out, his smile faltering when he saw Seb's glumness.

"Go on, tell me I look good, or are you still annoyed?" He said to him. My eyes widened as I watched them, were they really talking about last night now?

"I'd of rather you chose me to of kept an eye on the woman in Cornwall." He muttered as I frowned, what was this about?

"You want a holiday?" Jim asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sorry- Sherlock solved it anyway so no sniping was done, would have been too boring for you. Buuuuuut I do need you to deck out a little man here in London this morning, you can get on with that whilst I finish off the plans." I averted my gaze, this Sherlock, Jim was obsessed with him and I knew it was better not to get involved.

"What about…." I heard Seb say, and then turned back to them, meeting their gaze.

"I don't know if we can trust her for walkies yet." Moriarty started, going over to his drawer and pulling out a black lead, holding it in his hands like a baby. "Perhaps she could wear this."

"No fucking way." Seb laughed as I looked at the lead and collar in horror. Moriartys grin grew darker as his eyes wavered menacingly over me.

" Oh yes, I think so."

Two hours later, after numerous kicks, screams, hands grabbing and dragging, I was forced out the house. Seb was even more mortified than I was, but knew he was being watched and had to do it. We walked through the streets of London keeping out heads down, I could only imagine how this looked, me on a leash being held by Seb. I laughed in my head at the typical bystanders, not daring enough to do something till someone else did, but where was my someone else?

"Him." Seb stated, stopping to point at a nervous city boy in the window of an office building. We climbed up the fire escape stairs, and I stood back as Seb smashed open the window. He clambered in before the city boy could protest in his office and soon he was dragged out and down into the alley. Seb got out the explosives from his backpack and strapped him up as I watched. The city boy cried helplessly.

"Why are you doing this?" He, oddly enough, directed at me. Seb looked at me as well, intriguied by how I would answer.

"You need to say his words exactly, okay? Exactly, no more, no less." I said and Seb raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"You do catch onto his methods quickly." He said at me, before turning to the whimpering boy, adding the final touches to the bomb on his chest before zipping the big jacket over them, the wires subtly hanging out. "You need to go to the centre, wait there and then you will call him and tell him exactly as the text tells you to." He then shoved him up and dragged me back to the main street, I looked behind me as the civilian stared, and I recognized empathy from both our worlds of dullness and danger. We got onto the street and from the other side I saw Molly Hooper, approaching fast. If she saw me like this, what would I do?"

" Seb, listen to me, Molly Hooper is approaching and thanks to your idea of a joke- she knows me. I need you to unleash me and give me your jacket or everything could be ruined. Do you understand?" I whispered, looking anywhere but at him to look like the usual walker. Without any words of acknowledgement, he took the collar off and stowed the lead away and put his leather jacket over me, covering the majority of odd ribbons. I tried to calm my breathing as her face emerged close to me, and she looked up and immediately recognized me.

" Effy! Effy it's Molly!" she exclaimed, her face giddy with surprise.

"Hi, Molly, it's so good to see you." I said, perfecting my fake mannerisms. I saw her take in my long, puffy dress under the jacket, wondering where Seb was hiding, no doubt nearby.

"Mind I ask what you're wearing? Not exactly usual street style" She laughed.

"Just, laundry day. You know how it is. So how've you been? Still seeing that Jim?" I smiled, cursing myself inwardly, laundry day?!

Her face dropped at the mention of his name. "Oh no, we split up. I mean- I ended it, you know I wasn't what he was looking for in a man- I mean, what I was looking for! So what are you doing now?" She spluttered out all at once, it really was difficult to keep up.

"I actually better be going. But it was good seeing you- we should get that coffee sometime." I dared, sensing Seb was probably wondering why I was making coffee plans when I was under the highest surveillance yet.

"Yeah that'd be lovely, I'll text you- sorry what's your number?" she asked as I realized, crap, I didn't have one. Come to think of it, I wonder what Moriarty did with my phone, or did I even have it by that point that night?

"I'll just meet you at Barts, say next week?" I proposed, praying on all hopes Moriarty will let me if I convince him it's for his master plan on Sherlock Holmes, even if just for an hour. We said our goodbyes and I continued down the street, eventually Seb appeared next to me, I wondered where he hid. We strolled back in silence to the car and soon enough I was back in the cage, catching up on lost hours of sleep with the eventual muffled cries for Dom.

It was about 10 at night when a deafening roar woke me up followed by manic laughter. I then heard his footsteps approach and laid my head down, pretending to be asleep. He waltzed in, looking at his phone, murmuring his texting as he typed.

"They can come and fetch you." He murmured at his phone, I watched him with one eye open as he flipped his phone in bemusement.

"On to the next round Sherlock." He declared, putting his phone on the side. He then took off his tie slickly and shrugged off his blazer, letting it fall to the floor. Moving on to take his shoes and socks off, he then padded over barefoot to his scotch table and poured himself a large glass. He took a swig as I watched him, breathing as quietly as I could so I would seem asleep. My breath hitched however when I heard the undoing of his belt. I looked as he took his trousers off and then his underpants, standing completely bare looking out the window whilst drinking his scotch. He had a muscular back with a thin narrow waist and his bum was toned, going down to perfectly sculpted legs. I had to admit, it wasn't expected when he was stood next to the muscle that was Sebastian Moran, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. He then opened the drawer next to him and pulled out-of all the things- sweatpants. I couldn't help but smile as he pulled them on. In them, he didn't look like a monster at all. He sat on the end of the bed, centimetres away from me and set his glass on the side with a clunk.

"Have trouble sleeping too?" He said, sending me into a state of shock, he knew I was awake, he knew I'd seen him.

"Tend to." I whispered, afraid of what mood he was in.

"It's hard." He murmured in agreement, before I heard the rustle of sheets telling me he had gotten into bed. "The night can play tricks on even the greatest minds."

I giggled despite myself "Modesty beholds you James Moriarty."

There was a pause, and for a moment my heart stopped in fear I had somehow done something terrible before he said. "Jim…not James."

"Not Moriarty?" I asked.

"Jim, you should know me as Jim.

I mocked his deep London accent from Barts "Jim from IT". He laughed at the impression and I began to feel a little stronger in the face of the impending nightmares of night. "I saw her today, Molly Hooper. She misses you."

"I know you did, Sebastian told me, also said you handled the situation well, not running away again. So, she misses me? How romantic." He went on, his voice sounding as though his mind was slowing from his drink.

"It's what people do, they get attached." I replied, was I really having a deep conversation with this man?

"You were attached, to the boy." He said, I winced at the pain of the fresh scar, now Dom was one of many.

"He was my friend, nothing more."

"Oh, I don't think he quite felt the same. But you don't feel too much, do you Lyra?"

"That's the general idea of it, yes."

"It's an advantage really, in this world. So I'd think twice about running away from where you belong next time."

I couldn't muster the energy to fight back to his claim, and he took the silence as his little gain.

"Did you enjoy my show?" I heard him say through the sheets.

I rolled my eyes though he couldn't see me in the moonlight. "Don't be vain. " I lectured.

"No one has seen me in my room for years." He said quietly.

"What about Irene Adler?" I asked.

"Oh no, we have a room for that and I like to keep my clothes on. Makes it less personal."

Silence swept over us once more, I was in wonder at this other side of the man, when he was all alone, with a drink, his only enemy to confront was the darkness and the loneliness that consumed all of those that push away sentiment.

"I hate sleeping alone. You do too, you slept with the boy." I heard him say in such a faint whisper he might not even have meant me to hear it.

"It's just…nice." I replied.

" Lyra, would you mind sleeping up here tonight? I don't want your back broken for tomorrow and-"

"It is locked Jim." I reply.

Somehow I sensed him smile "No it's not, you didn't even try to get out this time. Come on, I've made room for you."

I paused, was I really doing this? Was he just drunk? I crept out the cage and slid into the bed that felt of luxurious material, being very conscious of him watching me.

"How are you liking the dress?" he asked.

"I can't breathe." I replied shortly.

Before I knew it he had gotten sharply out the bed and then come back holding a t shirt at me.

"Get changed under the cover, I won't peak. "

After the transition, I felt much more comfortable, yet so bare next to him. I faced the wall side of the bed and before I could stop myself, Dom's screams filled the silence and I began to cry again. I sensed Jim shift closer towards me and I pushed him away.

" No, no no no no, this is your fault." I cried, trying my best to suppress the waterfall behind my eyes. He only wrapped his arms around me and rocked me slightly.

" Shhhhh, don't cry." He soothed as I sobbed into his chest.

"Why are you being like this?" I asked.

He paused, and I looked up to meet his gaze as he said " You need a Dom, at least for now. And I need something that won't leave." He said, before pulling the duvet over the both of us and held me into a dreamless, safe sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Moriartys POV

I woke up all hot and bothered, the back of my neck was covered in a thin layer of sweat as I untangled my arms quickly from around her. Jesus, the girl was like a human radiator. So much for a cool, hard exterior. I got out the room quickly- not wanting her to wake up. I entered the kitchen as casually as I managed, where Seb was sat munching cereal judgementally.

"Sweatpants?" He laughed.

"Shut up." I replied, my mind was in too many places to have an argument, but I knew he was going to do it anyway.

"I saw you too, in your bed. Why, Jim, why would you change so quickly from wanting these to be her most miserable days?!" He continued, ending with banging his fist in anger on the kitchen counter.

"She stayed. She needed a reward." I shrugged off, keeping my face neutral.

"Don't give me that shit Jim. You can't do this, nevermind she's half your age, it's you! You haven't given a shit about her all this time… WHAT. HAS. CHANGED?" He raised his voice, I hadn't seen him this angry in a while.

"Well what the bloody hell is your thing with her! You've been caring for her!" I said back in an angry whisper, not wanting her to hear us.

"Because she reminds me of my sister, remember?! The one you killed when you 'hired 'me!" He screamed, knocking over his bowl and storming out. I sat down and put my heads In my palms, there weren't many times of emotion in Seb but whenever there is it's always about that day I took him into service. I had men beat him in his apartment and had him brought to a prison like place to be trained, thinking about it, Lyra could have had it a lot worse just like him. And his sister…she tried to save him, and my men shot her. It was all coming back because of Lyra.

I decided I needed to challenge her to the extreme, not her skills, but her life. I shut myself in my office and played Rossini loudly in order to cut off the sound of her bare feet padding round the house, but I then heard her calling my name. For a few moments I relished at the sound, but quickly got my phone out and texted.

_Time for kitty to go back in her cage. _

I sent the message and soon enough I heard Seb carrying her up the stairs despite her protest. Right, no more distractions today, I had let myself go for one night, now it was back to Sherlock. The third case to solve, the tetanus jab. I could let Seb handle the sniping here, it was local enough. Also the women I had in mind for the explosives was so old I needed someone there to make sure she didn't die half way through. God, was the master plan really so simple in the end? I picked up a pen and started writing math equations as complicated as I could and solved them within minutes. I paused at the new blank page, my mind scanning for a sum. But instead, my hand started to write her name. Lyra, Lyra, Lyra, Lyra. Scribbled all across the page fiercely, tears in the paper from the force of my writing. I sat back, jolting out my moment of weakness. What the hell was that about? The day had to go to plan, I needed her out the house.

" Seb!" I shouted, time those two got out on their next little mission.

Lyras POV

I had been sat in some old women's dim and miserable apartment for the entire day. As a joke, Jim had given me a ball of wool to keep myself entertained. As I sat on the armchair facing the women in her bed, crying of fear with bombs strapped to her, I made patterns in the wool using my fingers. Seb was in the opposite apartment block, the only sign of him was the red dot on her chest. This was possibly the most boring job yet. I so hope this Sherlock hurries him and solves whatever case is attached to this- so I could go home and confront Jim. He had avoided me all morning, and I needed to see why the sudden change of heart.

I sense the pensioner's eyes on me, and I turn to face right back at her. I knew she couldn't say anything, but I could see the temptation in her eyes. If she did speak, she would have lost her well-lived life, and I would lose my upcoming one. A little revenge on her half, but would she do it? I tilted my head at her, smiling to tell her 'no, you won't.'

Hours passed by, and the boredom started to physically hurt. This was Jim punishing me for last night, in his strange head he saw it as not his fault, because really, that wasn't Jim at all. At least not the Jim I've known all this time. My thoughts were interrupted by the old women, who coughed for my attention. She looked towards a pen on her side and a notebook. I hesitated, would Seb be able to see this? I walked over and gave her both items, and she scribbled down ' RUN.'

We both looked at each other, I in confusion. Suddenly a voice note from Jim interrupted the stillness and we both listened as he said. "Tell him to help you." She looked at me and then I knew what she was going to do, and that I couldn't stop her. She rings the detective and I hear him answer 'Hello?' before I bound out the room.

With only minutes to spare before she would blow this whole block up, I bound down the stairs. I pass a mother struggling with her baby in its stroller and for an instant look back at them, realizing the stakes of Jim's game. I reached the end of the stairs, struggling for breath as I clutch my side from running and run as fast as I can manage out the door and into the street. Then, I hear an explosion and I throw myself to the ground, arms over my head as shards and rubble surround me before I black out from the burning pain on my back.

Moriartys POV

I race through the wards in my Jim from IT concoction, in case any questions were asked of my connection. I reach the nurses desk and she looks up.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm here for Ly….Effy. Effy, where is she?" I managed, hoping she had stuck to just the one fake name.

"She's not woken up yet, but she's just down the hall on the right. Are you next of kin? Her brothers here."

"I'm her…boyfriend." I stammer, walking away before she can protest. So, Sebastian was here, how sweet.

I paused at the door, seeing Seb in the guest chair next to her bed as she lies all looked up the machines in a hospital gown looking dreadful. I walk in and stop at the end of her bed.

"You shot anyway." I said, the only thing I knew about what happened.

"Yes. I did. I didn't know how far she had got- I had to." He muttered back before leaning back in the chair. "I need to know Jim, why do you care all of a sudden? She's unconscious…tell me now." I could see he wasn't going to give up and I turned my gaze back to Lyra.

"Last night, I was in my office and bored. I decided to delve a bit deeper into her past. And you know when you see something, and you think you know them, but that something changes it all. This girl had no one, no one but that boy…her parents are dead.

"How did they die?" Seb pried.

"That's the thing that changed her for me Seb, she killed them herself. My first murder was aged 11, hers was 14. So similar aswell, overdosed them on their sleeping pills and went into her own room to wake up to them dead. Was in a foster home since."

"She didn't get caught?"

"No, she was clever. It made me realize she was capable of so much. And then I felt equal to her, she isn't to be under estimated and can't be controlled. She'll be going soon Seb, we can't have her forever. After all this, after the big game, I'll be sending her away for the next big thing. So call last night me wanting to be close to my equal in one of the last nights she'll be with us."

Seb was stunned for a moment. Then frowned and said. " She's mentioned her mum before…"

" Depersonlization disorder my dear sniper, see's it as another life, another person. But not for long."

Seb shook his head, struggling to register the eye opening information and got up, muttering before he shut the door behind him.

"Stay with her."

Lyras POV

I woke up to Jim sitting in a chair next to my bed and then registered I was in a hospital. The searing pain of the burns on my back made lying down so uncomfortable I could barely think. Jim watched as I opened my eyes and all I could manage was a stare.

"Don't worry, pain will be gone in a couple of hours, it's no 3rd degree burn." He said cockily. I turned over and faced away from him.

"Oh don't be like that." I heard him say. I turned back to him and waited for his explanation.

"Stupid old woman, thinking it was big of her to try and give me away. Human lives lost, all over the news this morning. Our Sherlock isn't coping so well is he?" He said, his eyes looking up.

"Your Sherlock." I breathed, and then winced as a wave of pain went through my body.

"You've got a day before I need you again, so rest." He said I chuckled; a rest was just what I needed.

"I was so scared I was going to die." I said before I could stop myself, the morphine must have been taking its toll on me. I then felt his hand slip into mine and closed my eyes, hoping he would stay as I drifted off.

I was checked out of hospital the next evening, with my identity unasked about thanks to Seb. Jim had stayed with me, managing his plans from his laptop whilst I was asleep and for the brief moments where I was awake he fed me real food rather than that 'nasty hospital gruel' as he put it. As the two of us came out into the sun setting in London I thought about when this whole game would end.

"Will I get to meet him?" I ask him as he opens the door of the car for me.

"Tonight, yes." He smiles as I step into the car. He walks around and gets in on the other side as Seb starts driving.

"What's tonight's victim then?" I pry; when you know the works it's easier to feel involved.

"Well, I've been contacted by Sherlock to meet him tonight. So perhaps we'll have Dr. John Watson there too." He answered, suppressing a laugh as my jaw dropped. With that, I could tell tonight was the climax Jim had been waiting for all this time.

We parked up outside an ordinary looking swimming centre and Jim and I got out, Seb unwinded the window and leaned out.

" I'll be back soon, don't get into too much trouble." He shouted and sped off. Jim laughed at him and we made our way inside.

It looked as normal as ever, like the place I learned to swim with all the other kids, god, that was a mistake. We paced around the still pool of blue, the only sound out feet clacking until Jim stopped to look around.

" My first murder was in this swimming pool." He confessed, I turned to him startled, what was this, confession time? But I listened anyway. "Carl Powers, cocky little achiever, tampered with his eczema medication, made it look as though he had some sort of fit in the pool and he died." His voice went soft as he dipped his shoe slightly in the water, both of us transfixed by the ripples that followed before he looked up at me.

"How about you?" He asked.

I snapped my head up, and a sensation I hadn't experienced before went through my mind, all the images, so suppressed, and came at me like gunfire. My parents, their sleeping faces.

"I know…" He continued. "I know what you did Lyra. All that time, I thought I was creating a murder monster. "

"That was another me." I started, tears prickling in my eyes, why was he doing this, how did he know? "It wasn't me. It wasn't me. That didn't happen. My parents didn't happen! Stop it!" I start screaming and he paces around the pool, so cool in the face of my panic attack.

" Shhhhh, it's okay. You can't run away from who you are, forgive the clique, you have to accept it Lyra." He pried into me; it felt as though he was stabbing my scars afresh, the blood pouring out forever, drowning me. He suddenly grabbed me and held me on the edge of the pool by my shoulders, a look of mock surprise on his face.

" I'll drop you in If you don't tell me now you're ready to become that person again, because you know Lyra, I can see it. I can see you need to release it but you just WON'T WILL YOU" He shouted, his voice bounces off the walls of the pool in an echo.

"NO!" I cried back at his own outburst and he dropped me into the water. I submerged under it and kicked my way up to the surface for air. I gulped it all down as he laughed at me. I wrenched off my coat and dress and shoes, throwing them to the side. When I went to get out, he put a foot on my hand.

" Oh no you don't , 10 lengths Lyra. You can do it, go on." He urged, looking down at me in just my underwear and a vest top. I glare and then swim away, each time I return to his side of the pool after each length he nodded in approval. Then on my last one I make to get up again, but he leans down and looks down at me, our faces inches apart.

"A beautiful monster." He whispered, and before he could do anything else I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the pool. He appeared above the surface with a look of rage and I kicked back into the middle of the pool.

"This is my best suit you know." He grinned, and stripped down to just his trousers. But other than that, I could see he was pleased. "Come on, say yes, say yes to this. Yes to the danger, yes to bringing down Sherlock Holmes after this showcase. "He waded his way over to me in a snake-like fashion, waiting for my answer.

He stopped in front of me and took my tangled wet hair in a fist, then looked into my eyes with patience. I went into my mind for a moment and saw all that was before I was 14, the darkness, the rage. It was me, my disorder was gone. He had cured me.

" I want all of this, Jim, I want you." I barely whisper, but it was all he needed. He pulled down on my hair, forcing my chin up and leaned down, his mouth pressing down on mine. I kiss him back and hold onto his neck as he lifts me in the water. We were both in ecstasy and I felt reborn, my own baptism pool was right here.

We were interrupted by the sound of the pool door opening and the sound of a body being dragged across the floor, followed by a "Get out." From the voice of a shaken Sebastian.


	12. Chapter 12

Moriartys POV

I opened my eyes, still holding onto Lyra in the pool as she looked up at me as if searching for my reaction. As my brain caught up with me, she felt disgusting in my arms; I felt weak and swam to the side quickly, hauling myself out to get my handy spare suit in the car. I couldn't look back at her as I heard her get out, I couldn't even look at Seb as he dragged John Watson to the side.

When I got back, the two of them had disappeared, that little blaring red dot on the bloggers chest the only sign of company. I looked around and set up the scene in my head, just like a play. I shifted him myself out of the pool room and into the corridor to the side that was his dramatic entrance sorted. I then spotted a side room for the floats, seeing a perfect leering entrance for me, from there I could see Sherlocks face as he sees John. I set myself in it and calmed myself down. My face broke out in a smile as I felt the perfect situation, Lyra had promised to stay, she was going to be like me, wouldn't run and Sherlock had fell perfectly into my plan. I heard the pool door swing open and watched as he entered, holding up the USB, oh dear, deary dear.

"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance – all to distract me from this." He said loudly.

I then put the phone to my ear which, through an earpiece, I told him what to do. I then watched intently as he did- Sherlock's face actually shocked.

John said neutrally. "Evening… This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?

Sherlock replied softly "John. What the hell ...?"

I then watched as they danced, Sherlock looking even more confused at each line I gave Watson. I then decided it was my time and opened the door, calling out.

"I gave you my number. Thought you might call." I walked out slowly, making my way over to them.

"Is that British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket... or are you just pleased to see me? I waver, smirking to myself. Sherlock then raises the pistol at me, replying

" Both."

I stop and decide it's time to stop neglecting my manners. "Jim Moriarty. Hi!"

Sherlock tilts his head as he looks more closely at me.

"Jim? Jim from the hospital?" I imitate that Londoner accent which I so despise. I walk up along the deep end towards them, seeing Sherlock bring up his other hand to support the one aiming the gun.

"Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point." I continue, it was taking time for them to adjust, how adorable. I see Sebastians little red dot waver on Watsons chest and see both their eyes look at it, frowning.

"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty." I reach my spot and continue "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see ... like you."

We played around for a bit, me mainly filling Sherlock in which did give me satisfaction to see him needing my knowledge. He even thought the precious missile plans were important to me, and I laughed as I tossed them into the pool. But then I was grabbed around the neck, by the bombed up blogger and held in his grasp.

"Sherlock! Run!" He shouted behind my ear as Sherlock backs up in surprise, but still keeping his pistol raised, aiming it at me.

I laugh in delight. "Good! Very good!"

He says savagely next to me. "If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up." I

I say calmy to Sherlock. "Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets." I then realize myself; I had allowed myself to get sentimental about my pet. In a flash of a second, my insides started to boil up. If I was attached to the girl, it would be the end of it all, and things had to end on my terms. My life had to be only in danger of me, not her.

"They're so touchingly loyal" I say to John, my mind now fuzzy from the realization.

Lyras POV

I hid in the changing room corridors, just hidden around the corner in the showers- where I had moved to just after Watson had gone out. I was hidden in the shadows and could see and hear everything. What was Sebastian going to do? I could see Sherlock wondering it too- he knew too he was in the gallery. I heard Jim tease them, and it terrified me as I heard him snarl.

"I'll burn the heart out of you." I closed my eyes; I was so cold from my sopping wet clothes. I know you will Jim, you'll do it to everyone. A few moments later I hear the corridor door open and I hear Sherlock say " Catch ... you ... later. " followed by Jim singing " No you won't!" before he appeared round the corner, looking down at me sat down with some sort of sadness in his eyes.

"What is it?" I whisper.

" Do you know what happens to people who get attached, sentimental, distracted…" he murmurs, gazing at some faraway spot. " They ruin their lives; they give it all up for people, the worst sort of monsters imaginable. And you were my monster; you should be the worst of them all. But somehow, feelings got in the way. I can't live with myself not following my own mind."

"Jim- don't do this. You're just scared." I stammer out, scared at his sudden change back.

"Scared?" He scoffed. "Yes, I am. I've never been scared. I'll never be scared of death, and if that's the one thing that will get me out of a life of pain and heartbreak so be it."

Before I can protest, he walks the opposite direction and I knew what he was going to do. I scrambled to the door looking into the pool room and saw as he appeared on the other end again, the bomb was now in the middle of them and there were many more red dots. So who else did he call in? I then saw what was going to happen. Sherlock wasn't going to die without daring to kill him. I had to act quickly- but this time It wasn't to run. I couldn't call Seb because he was just above in the gallery, so I dialled her name, fumbling my fingers on the buttons of my temporary mobile phone. She picked up on the third ring.

"Hello darling" she drawls.

"Irene, listen to me. You need to call Jim- he's going to get himself killed because he is scared of living and that's my fault. But please, you need to tell him something that will give his mind meaning, a case or something. Now, please. "I whisper in a frantic hurry as I watched in horror at Sherlock lowering the gun to the bomb. Jim just smirked, thinking himself ready for death when he had barely lived. I then realised half the pain was me, I couldn't live without him either and it broke my heart to watch him run away.

Irene simply hung up and I stared at the phone, contemplating whether to run and save my life. But could I live knowing he was dead, and Seb? I waver between the two options, was I really so ready to die for him?

Of all things to determine my life, the BeeGees started playing the opening of "Staying Alive." I watched as Jim stayed neutral before rolling his eyes and asking the two.

"Do you mind if I get that?" I sighed out in relief; the woman had been kind for once.

"Oh no please, you've got the rest of your life." Sherlock replied. And from then on, I watched as Jim acted accordingly to my own scene of his 'play'. He hung up and said to Sherlock.

"Sorry…wrong day to die." From there on, I stop watching and pull my wet coat onto me, grabbing my shoes to make our speedy escape. Seb was already in the car as I dove in, followed by Jim. We sped off into London.

"Nice ringtone." I smile, glad to have him alive and next to me. He turns around from staring out the window and gives me a long, hard look. He then undoes his seatbelt and shifts over to undo mine. He positions me in his lap and holds me, grabbing my hand and kissing all my fingers.

"Thank you." He whispered. I smiled into his chest, so he knew.

"I knew what to do." I reply in a quiet murmur, aware of Sebastian in front of us. As we drive over the bridge I see the big ben and hear it chime midnight.

"What's the date, Jim?" I ask him and he frowns before answering.

"The 20th November, why?" he answered.

I smiled before announcing. "Todays my birthday."

Jim lifts my chin up with his hands and grips onto me tighter. "You're 18" He asked and I nodded. "Happy Birthday, Lyra."

We got back to the house and I caught Jim telling Seb something in the car before he sped off, leaving just me and him going inside. To my surprise, Jim immediately went into his office. I frowned, so much for an introduction into the adult world. I went into the sitting room and lied on the couch for five minutes, hearing Seb return. Perhaps he went out for milk or something, even a consulting criminal needs it. I heard scuffling in the kitchen and then Seb called out.

" Lyra, come to the kitchen!"

I frown, what were they up to? I take my shoes off and pad over, opening the door slowly into the pitch black kitchen. Turning the corner, I see Jim stood there with a cake lit up with candles in his hands and Seb holding a wrapped up present. If the sight didn't melt my heart completely, I would have laughed at the sight of such evil men doing such a sweet thing. I approached them grinning from ear to ear as they sang Happy Birthday to me in an embarrassed and shy manner, Seb had gone completely red. I stood in front of the candles and watched them flicker, and the ceremony took a whole new meaning. Just like my sort of baptism in the pool, these candles marked a new me, I didn't have to deny who I was any longer. And now, I could have Jim. I looked up into his beetle eyes as I lowered myself, not breaking the stare as I blow them all out in one. His eyes darken and he grins that malicious smile, knowing just like I did. Seb coughs and hands the present over to me, which I rip open greedily. Inside is a pistol, a cutely small but deadly thing and a necklace to keep things sweet.

"Thank you." I say, genuinely thankful for the tranquillity I felt in the room, as if nothing could go wrong on my birthday for once. Seb stood up and –to my surprise- hugged me.

"I'm off, another job. I'll see you later, Lyra." He said whilst holding me, and I sensed he was saying something deeper. I never expected affection from him, but I suppose we had been through a lot together. He let me go, patted me on the back then walked out, grabbing his sniping gun before he left. The air in the room became dense and the smoke left behind from the candles swam in between me and him. He reached out his hand and smiled at me, telling me to take it. I obeyed him and he led me out the room and up the long staircase. We got halfway when he paused and looked back at me.

"Are you sure-"He started, but I didn't want him to think for once. I kissed him fiercely on the step below him, running my hands through his hair. He grabbed me and pushed me against the wall next to the stairs. He forced my mouth open with his tongue as he tugged the strap of my dress down my shoulders, leaving my mouth to plant kisses on each freckle. I lowered my hands from his back and skimmed his shirt downwards with my fingers lightly. I reached his belt and undid it quickly as I felt him grin next to my ear. I felt his arousal and stroked him, feeling his eyes on me as he paused to relish in the feeling. He bucked into my hand and tilted his head back, groaning.

" Lyra." He whispered, closing his eyes.

"Here?" I asked lightly, wondering how close he was as I used my other hand to undo his tie. When I went to leave it on the stairs, he instead took it from my hands and took my other hand away from his length, gesturing for me to turn around. I faced the wall and he tied the tie around my eyes, leaving me in the dark. I heard him kneel down, and then felt kisses being planted up my legs. He rustled my dress up and he used his teeth to drag my knickers down. I stepped out of them and then he was stood up, leant against me. He put one arm around me and fondled my chest over my dress as the other one explored me from behind. His thumb circled my front and I couldn't keep my sigh in. I lolled my head back onto his shoulder and he started biting my neck as he continued his sensational torture. Then, just as I felt myself winding up, he picked me up and hauled me over his shoulder. I giggled and slapped his behind.

"Behave" he growled and slapped mine, making me even more frustrated. The walk to his bedroom lasted forever with all the anticipation, and once we were there we were both ferocious. He set me down and undid the tie, letting it all as he came back into my view. The look on his face could have been my undoing right there, his eyes bored into me like I was his victim. He then retreated, sitting on the end of his bed to leave my standing a few feet away from him.

"Take them off." He murmured darkly. I smiled back and slowly pulled my dress over my head. I stood in my lingerie and undid my bra, slipping it off to leave myself exposed. His eyes lowered and stared, that favourite playful smile emerging like a teenage boy. I was completely nude- thanks to him taking my underwear on the stairs.

"Your turn." I say and approach him, feeling tall as he remained sat. I took off his blazer in a hurry and tore his shirt open, pushing him back on his back. I slid his trousers and boxers down, throwing them aside. He grabbed my hair and positioned me as I took him with my mouth. I felt in control- though he was holding me there I felt him beckoning at the touch. I moved up and down, swirling my tongue and looked up at him to meet his eyes, his expression looking tortured. I carried on and on and then he wrenched my hair, making me pull away. He then rolled me over on my back and trapped me underneath him. He kissed me harshly before moving down, kissing me everywhere. He reached my breasts and kneaded them in my hands- it reminded me momentarily of that night at Doms- but this was different. He closed his mouth around my nipple whilst teasing the other one with his fingers playfully. He sucked and bit, swirling his tongue around the pink before moving down, taking my thighs in his arms and spreading them apart. My breath hitched, I had never done this before. He blows on my crotch, making me squirm and then began his delicious torture again. He flicked his tongue up and down, sucking, biting there even harder than on my breasts. It was so sensitive and he had to constrain my legs to keep me from squirming. My head went fuzzy and I couldn't let out any sound, my mouth just opened and closed in wonder. Then he was gone and back in front of my face. He reached to the side and pulled out a foil packet, which he held in front of me. I tore it open with my teeth, which he looked proudly upon and watched as I slid it over his hard manhood. Not wanting to delay, he kissed me hard as he entered me. Tears sprung to my eyes at the initial pain and I felt him kiss the running tears softly. I nodded at him, telling him it was okay. He began to move, his cock filled me perfectly, making me feel full. The friction winded me up like a toy, the relentless hitting of my spot making me dizzy. Our hot breaths mingled and panted, our kisses became battles of power, when really I knew I was his, entire he had me completely. Jim then began to lose himself in me.

"Lyra, I'm going to-" I lifted myself up and started grinding against him, knowing exactly what he meant and wanted to make the moment perfect. He restrained himself until I was ready, and we both climaxed together. He stayed still for a few moments, and then pulled out of me as I winced. He lied down next to me and stared up at the ceiling as we both caught our breath. The last thing I heard him say before we fell asleep was a murmured.

" Thank you for not making me kill myself at the pool."

I woke up still in bed, reaching out to feel Jim. But all I felt were empty sheets. I opened my eyes and saw I was in an apartment, a home that didn't belong to me. I checked the date- it was still my birthday. So it was the morning. I got up quickly and as I did, the door knocked. After hesitating on the spot, I answered the door in my sweats, which I don't remember getting into. I opened the door to a friendly looking nanny type woman in a purple dress.

" Hello dear, you moved in at an odd time last night, doesn't matter I'm always kept up by the boys upstairs. Just thought I'd say hi."

I gawped at the woman, I recognized her from somewhere. I then glanced up at the number on 'my' door and saw '221C'. I gasped, I was in baker street.

"Yes, erm sorry. Hi." I panicked and closed the door on her surprised and confused face. I turned around and saw a letter for me on the kitchen table. With trembling fingers I picked it up.

" Dear Lyra

I'm sorry there was no easier way to do this, Jim told me all the details which are on the back. This is your new life, for Sherlock. Bringing him down, but for now you need to get close to him. I'm sorry it had to be done this way, If you were awake you wouldn't have gone. As I said, details of the mission on the back for the next year.

Good luck and I'll miss you, see you soon.

Sebastian.

I dropped the letter and let out a cry of anguish, falling to the floor and curling myself in a ball, realizing what he had done.


	13. Chapter 13

Lyras POV (as it will be for a while)

It had been three day since 'the move'. I had been chain smoking and drinking for what felt like forever, turning 18 had its perks when you didn't have to send people into the shop for you. I had only left my apartment for more drink and was perfectly happy neglecting my 'mission' in spite of him. I walked around the filthy apartment numbly in my underwear, the letter lying beneath newspapers and clothes. I figured he must have drugged me in the night and taken me here, having plagiarised some sort of agreement between me and the landlady behind my back. I winced at the memory of that night, having pushed it far down since my birthday. I had to admit; I had my share of bad birthdays in the foster home and with my parents…but Jim certainly stepped up the mark. I flopped down on the couch and tried to sleep after a restless night, but someone upstairs just wouldn't give the violin a rest. I put my IPod in the speaker (a little home warming gift from Jim I suspect) and play Lana Del Rey as loudly as I could. I selected my favourite song ' Gods & Monsters' and preceded to making myself coffee. As I waited for the kettle to boil, feeling like any ordinary Briton I began to listen to the lyrics.

_In the land of gods and monster I was an angel, looking to get fucked hard. _

"Feel you there Lana." I smirked, remembering my naivety of the consulting criminal and his seductions. I had let him win, but the game wasn't over. I most certainly was in the land of monsters, them being Jim and Sebastian, but who was my God? At that moment I heard someone knocking on my door, making me jump. For god's sake, couldn't people leave me alone?

"No tea today Mrs Hudson!" I yell out over the music. The woman had been badgering me for tea since I arrived, not shaken by my rude reception.

"It's not Mrs Hudson!" a deep voice bellowed in reply. I rolled my eyes and quickly picked up an over shirt from the kitchen chair and opened the door. Jesus Christ, it was him. He furrowed his brows at me, holding his arms behind his back whilst keeping his ground.

"Molly Hooper." He murmured.

"Erm…no?" I replied, what was he talking about? He shook his head, realizing his mistake.

" Molly Hoopers…friend. From the lab" He said in an almost inaudible whisper.

" Effy." I stated, I had to get out of this conversation quickly; I hadn't even planned out my mission strategy to bring this man down.

" Effy. Do you mind playing that gangster Nancy Sinatra dribble loudly enough to stop me thinking, which is of by the way national importance-"

"Well do you mind not screeching away at that violin for hours on end?" I shout back.

" Screeching?" He scoffs. We're then interrupted by someone entering the hallway. I recognize John Watson, looking a lot more relaxed without the explosives strapped to him.

"Sherlock what are you-" He says, catching his breath from his walk from the shops, apparent by the heavy plastic bags in his arms. He stops as he sees me in the doorway.

"Ah- you must be the neighbour, good to finally catch you."

"Is it." Sherlock muttered as John shakes my hand. Just then I hear the dreaded Mrs Hudson pop out to see the source of the noise.

" Oh! Finally, you're out! Boys, get your shopping out the hall, how about we all have some tea upstairs seeing as you're finally out?" She hoots out, practically hopping at the sight of her new resident socializing. I saw I had little chance of getting out of this one, so I put on my best friendly neighbour smile and nodded.

"Sounds great. I'll be up in 10 minutes, just need to get dressed." I say shyly, and close the door on their three faces. I lean against the door, making sure to hear them head up. As they ascend the stairs I hear John ask "How young is she?!". I then hear Mrs Hudson tut at him.

"Oh John, I've had all sorts. I suspect a young love gone sour, might want some independence."

"Good central London apartment courtesy of her gullible parents no doubt." I hear Sherlock input and nearly smash a glass at the door. How could the genius consulting detective be so ignorant and wrong? I slide down the door and tuck my head into my knees to calm myself down. My sub-conscious was screaming at me to go up there and shoot them both and just get the job done and then I'll be back where I belong, with Jim. But I knew Jim would want to stretch this out, test us both, me and Sherlock. Every memory made me feel on edge and foolish, I felt like a used toy he had gotten bored with and wanted out. What even was my part in all of this? Jim never had a heart, I could see that now. There wasn't room for both me and Sherlock in his distractions.

I dress into jeans and a jumper- now missing the elegant evening dresses and find myself in front of their door, knocking timidly. John opens the door with a ready smile.

"Ah, we we starting to wonder if you were coming up. Err, come on in." He said and stepped back, revealing to me a messy but intriguing flat. I saw bullet holes and a smiley face on the wallpaper and in the kitchen there was lab equipment, it made mine look well-kept. Sherlock was sat in an armchair facing me as John sat down on the coach behind, gesturing for me to sit down. I comply, feeling very uncomfortable and then a steaming cup of tea is placed before me by Mrs Hudson. I try not to look so disgusted- I always preferred coffee over tea and was tempted to fetch my cold one from my own flat. I gulp it down reluctantly and wait for the inevitable neighbourly small talk to resume.

"As I was saying- the murderer had the IQ of a rabbit and the teeth of one, so you should recognize him by that when he comes here to 'find me and kill me'. Wanted his mother to stop intervening in his vagarious love life and 'accidently 'raped and killed her. So lets keep the women out the way for this. " were the unexpected words that followed, spoken from Sherlock as he concentrated on some spot on the floor.

I widened my eyes in shock, what was this about? John darted his eyes from me to Sherlock.

"He's coming here- now?! Sherlock ! We have a guest!" He shouted at him. Sherlock simply shrugged his shoulders and pulled a face as Mrs Hudson started hooting about once more in a tizzy.

"Didn't want to delay him and cause him any trouble!" Sherlock replied in a mocking manner.

"Jesus Sherlock." John sighed before turning to me. "Look, it might be best to explain later, why don't you hide downstairs-

"Murderer would check." Sherlock interrupted.

"Fine, how about your bedroom then?" Sherlock turned his head in confusion. "Girls could go in there and we can handle him."

It was all a bit of a blur before I found myself sitting patiently on Sherlocks bed with Mrs Hudson who was tutting away.

"I'm really- VERY sorry about this. I had no idea-"

"Its fine, Mrs Hudson." I breathe, having to concentrate on my willpower to not go out there myself and face this rapist murderer. We sit in silence and I take the time to examine his room, he had made it to not tell much about him apart from the dark colours. It slightly reminded me of his bed, and I lost myself briefly in the memory of that night. I was glad I was facing away from the landlady or she would have seen me smile as my cheeks flustered. A crash then told us he was here and I hear mumbling from outside. I smiled; negotiating wasn't this man's method boys. Suddenly the voices were stopped by a sweeping knock and a bang. I instantly worry someone had got to the boys before Jim was able to, which wouldn't turn out so well for me. I then panic as I hear the footsteps grow louder and the door swings open, an ugly, squat and muscular convict stood, panting. Without hesitating, he slapped me and hauled me over him. I used all my might to claw him off, but he carried me through the corridor with ease. He manages to get me out the door before I hear Sherlock and John catch up.

"Put her down!" John shouted, holding a gun up. The stupid man turns around and that was his big mistake- I free my foot and swing it into his crotch, then bite down hard on his shoulder making him bleed. He cries out in pain and topples to the floor as Sherlock and John bound towards him.

"Good on you." John breathed as Sherlock observed him.

"I swear they're getting stupider." He says and John glances at him.

"You just miss Mr. Moriarty and his cleverness." He remarks, the mention of Jims name makes me jolt up before remembering the composure I had to keep. " You okay?" John asks as he turns his head to me, looking genuinely concerned.

" Yeah I'm fine." I mutter, my distance from the situation attracts Sherlocks attention and he turns his head in a reptile like way towards me, the movement that resembled Jim.

"A girl recently split up from her ambitious relationship moves into London to seek independence at a young age with the financial help of her parents. Shuts herself in her room for the first few days to mourn over lost days of cuddles and kisses, making no move to get herself a job. So she isn't concerned about the rent money, clearly well raised with good inheritance, perhaps also with strict guidelines. Acts our rebellious and childlike to secure an anti-social boundary around those she shares residency with-

"Sherlock, are you going anywhere with this or have we put off our neighbour enough today?" John says exasperatedly.

Sherlock ignores him. "Was. I. right?" He asks slowly. I look bravely into his eyes and answer.

"Completely, clever man."

"And yet, attempted kidnap and from what you've heard guessed rape and murder doesn't even make you shake." He continues, lifting my hands to the light. I quickly snap them away from him and step over the trembling convict on the floor, shutting the door in their faces. My unbothered mask unpeels as I run to my room and jump onto my bed, curling up my fists. Why was I so bad at this? I had gotten lost in the rush and forgot not to enjoy it. I reach for my phone under the pillow and dial his number, but for the hundredth time, I am greeted by an automated message telling me the number isn't recognized. I was completely alone, isolated and unaware of when I was going to see him again. I put my face into my pillow and let the tears flow hot and unrestrained.

After I felt spent out and had no more tears to spill, I made myself dinner, sitting by myself at the kitchen table. I should get myself a cat…or a dog, something for company. I smile when I think of what Sebastian would reply to that. He'd warn me of becoming the crazy cat lady of Baker Street and to 'just get on with it'. That thought sends my eyes to the neglected letter on the table I had so far been too cowardly to finish. I didn't want to hear what I had to do; I wanted to hear from him. I needed an explanation. I pick it up gently and inhale before deciding I was ready. Turning over from the side I read on my birthday, I start to read.

_To bring down Sherlock correctly, we will be following as Jim said, 'burning him'. Your job is to get as close as you can to his friends. That includes the landlady, Lestrade, Molly Hooper and John Watson. Each and every one is vital for when everything is ready. We've put you in their building for this to be as likely as possible and to increase their trust in you, Sherlocks will be especially hard to get. " _

From there on it was little objectives and tasks to help me do all that, but I had enough. I crumpled it up and threw it somewhere, feeling even more frustrated than before. My phone then starts buzzing and I see who else but Molly Hooper texting me. I pick up the phone half-heartedly and open the message.

'_Hey, was just wondering if you wanted to get that coffee. Heard you moved in Sherlocks place- small world, maybe we could have coffee at yours- if you don't mind obviously. Molly X.'_

I smile at the phone, some female company might not be so bad, and Molly's motives behind the coffee being here are so painfully obvious I take some pity on her, love bites us all I suppose.

"_Sure, would love to. I'm free day after tomorrow." _

I send the text and sit plainly at the table, bored once more. I then realized- it's Friday, why should I feel under Jims thumb when he's not even here and won't talk to me at all after sleeping with me? It's time to go out clubbing, as an adult. I go into my room and put on an LBD, smear some makeup on, put on my shoes and prepare to leave.

I hail a taxi down to one of the clubs I've always longed to get into- but never could because my fake ID would be too risky. It wasn't posh or anything, it was a warehouse, but it was me. I enter feeling revitalized and enter the crowd in the flashing red and white lights. The music was so loud it drowned out all thoughts of him and I danced as long as I could into the morning. A couple of boys tried to grope me but I simply teased them then walked off. I got some weed off a sturdy looking chick in the bathroom and used it to calm me down, feeling euphoric and reminiscent of my old ways.

I got in at about four in the morning, stumbling into my apartment after struggling with the keys for about ten minutes. I tripped around some more, feeling myself come down from the rush. I started buzzing and fumbled as taking my vibrating phone out my bra. I answered it quickly.

" Helloooo you've reached Effy. I'm not here right not because I'M TOTALLY FUCKING GONE" I giggle hysterically, unable to stop myself. "Leave a massage after the beep." I then wait for the caller to reply, but all I hear is breathing, heavy breathing. My mind then gears into focus, I know that sound.

"Don't be such a stupid, fucking, girl." He snarled and then as quickly as he had reappeared in my life, his sound was gone. I scream in anguish at the phone and try to redial the unknown number through my drunkenness but fail miserably. I sit down on the floor and keep the voice, however frightening, in my head until I felt the urge to throw up.

" Jim, please come back." I whisper, hoping somehow he could hear me.


	14. Chapter 14

Lyras POV

"So, what happened to rabbit man?"

Sherlock looked up from his violin upon hearing me break the silence, as if he didn't even know I was sat across from him in John's chair.

"Where's John?" He blurted.

"He's in Dublin…" I respond, how did he forget?

Sherlock reassumed his vacant expression and continued to fiddle with his violin strings. "Oh, yes well the 'rabbit man' as you so poetically put it is in the hands of Scotland Yard now, we can just hope they at least keep an eye on him or whatever they do."

"Imprison him maybe?"

"If that's the verdict, sure."

I smile at him warmly, the sociopath didn't even care, but if all goes to plan, he will. I had decided earlier that day to quit my moping after Jim's short phone call, and just accept the reality he had forced upon me. I had even got myself a job interview, as dull as it sounded I needed a distraction, it would look odd to be tailing Sherlock all week long.

"So what are you doing today?" I ask, cringing at myself having to force small talk on the one man who hates it more than anyone, except Jim perhaps. He frowned at me quizzically.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just…thought I'd ask. Your inbox has been beeping, on the laptop. Gonna take a case?" Jesus, this was getting painful.

"Nothing interesting. Well- one was, teenage boy contacted me claiming he was under surveillance by 'evil men' and needed a way out of his 'forced protection.' But he's probably dead by now for contacting me. "

I rolled my eyes at his ignorance and got up swiftly, shaking the crumbles of cake courtesy of Mrs Hudson off me.

"Right well, I'm off for the job interview, wish me luck." I say as I pick up my handbag.

"You'll need more than that working for Mycroft." He mutters and I still, not understanding.

"Mycroft? I'm not working for your brother."

"No, you're working quite a few levels below him, any job to do with government likely has Mycroft at the top. " Sherlock then went on to mimic my surprised face. "How can that be Sherlock it's just a secretary position? Well Lyra- how can it be I simply mention the name Mycroft and you know he's my brother?" He continues, turning his head and regarding me with intrigue.

I gawp for a moment, realizing my fatal blunder. "I heard John mention him." I grumble and quickly step out the door. How am I ever going to earn his trust when I blurt out this stuff? It was all so much easier with Sebastian guiding me.

I arrive at the office for my interview five minutes early, and sit in the waiting room for my turn. A handsome man in a cheap suit sits across from me and I notice him glance up at least 10 times in the space of a minute. I look up and give him a wink and he practically makes a mess of his own pants. I smirk into my newspaper, _boys_. A woman with a name badge ' Andrea' comes out the door.

"Who's next?" She asks to the room, and I glance at my competitor, who after my wink allows me to go before him even though he got there first. I follow Andrea into the office and sit across from her, a large wooden desk separating us.

"So, Effy, you've got the pretty face for front of house work. Care to tell me a bit about yourself?" She asks.

"Well, I've had experience working as a secretary in my parents business. And I have outstanding A level results, all A's. I'm here to help. "Was all I could manage, handing over my CV most likely made by Sebastian. She seemed to buy it, looking at me in apprehension, and 10 minutes later I walked out into London with a job. So, I could be working for Sherlocks brother, I wonder where that'll come in handy.

The day passed without any significance, I made it home and decided not to risk another deduction from Sherlock and shut myself in to concentrate on revising the plan. I checked my phone every two seconds for him to call again, but really I knew last night was an exception, though it did teach me to get his attention I had to misbehave. The idea of running away was tempting, but I knew what he would do, all those people I killed, he'd put me in court, so I had no choice. I hated feeling so imprisoned.

The next day, Molly came over for coffee. I opened the door to her looking flustered, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing trousers and a top and cardigan. She muttered something about the weather as I set about making coffee. She asked me about my grandma which I quickly had to improvise an answer about getting over the false death. She mentioned Jim a few times which made me have to hide smiling as well, but really I was warming up to her. Once we had finished our mugs Molly suddenly perked up.

"Seeing as I'm here- do you know if Sherlock's in?" She tried to say casually.

"Probably, let's go see what he's up to." I give her the answer she wants and we make our way upstairs. I knock as Molly stands next to me and to my surprise John answers the door.

"Oh, John, I didn't know you were back. How was Dublin?!" I ask.

"Yeah it was good, very good. Er- come on in. Hi Molly, we're going out in a moment so-"

John makes way for us anyway and me and her enter the living room, hearing Sherlock banging about in his room. I peer down the corridor and see him wearing a PVC jacket and can't help but laugh.

"What are you wearing?!" I say between giggles, even Molly has to bite her lip to stop herself, though I'm not sure it's laughter.

"Disguise!" Sherlock shouts back.

John then stomps down. "Sherlock- what are you doing?"

"We're going into battle John- need the right armour!" He says, shrugging off the jacket in a hurry. Molly, sensing she was intruding checked her non-existent watch.

"I better be off actually- my shift starts soon. Thanks for the coffee Effy." She says and gives me a hug.

"No problem, please come round again soon." I smile at her; it was nice to have female company that wasn't like Irene Adlers idea of company. Once Molly was gone and Sherlock had come out in his ordinary suit I decide now was the time.

"Can I come with you?" I blurt out, the two men stop and look at me.

"Why?" John asks, bending his neck as if I had suddenly shrunk to the size of an ant.

"Well, you know I can manage it after yesterday. I've been stuck in for ages." My hopes heighten at the sense of excitement. Sherlock doesn't even look at me as he puts on his scarf.

"We could need a female on our side. You can get a separate taxi and sneak in. Okay?" He responds, knotting the dark scarf in a knot. I blink, was it really that easy? But the look Sherlock gave me was one not of generosity, but as if he knew I wasn't going to be able to handle it. So naturally, I had to prove him wrong.

Sherlock and John hopped in a taxi and I got the next one, telling the driver to simply follow them. They suddenly stopped and I saw them get out and I followed. As I caught up with them I saw Sherlock punch John in the face and stood still on the pavement. What the hell was going on?

" Boys!" I shouted across the road, just as John tackles Sherlock to the ground. I reached them and watched as they recovered. Sherlock now had a bleeding face, and was that a vicar collar? He looked at me as I assessed the situation.

"Needed to compromise. You should have been later, stay here and you'll hear some sort of signal for when we need you. " He says. John gives me an apologetic look as they set off around the corner, leaving me hanging. I decide to visit the café and sit with a coffee outside and a pack of fags. After ten minutes I start to feel anxious that I was being watched. I scan the windows of the building opposite and see someone standing with a camera in one of them. But quickly they disappear before I can make my move, what was that about? I frown, something wasn't right. I decide I've given Sherlock enough time and make my way back. Just before I go around the corner I hear three gunshots. I then reach the street and realize I had been here before.

Irene Adler was back.

I entered the house with the door wide open and walked about. I hear voices coming from the living room and peer through, the first thing I see is three men lying unconscious, one dead, on the floor. I then see Sherlock with his back facing me, him…facing her. I open the door bravely and they both turn around. Irene was wearing nothing but…was that Sherlocks coat? At first she looks surprised, whilst Sherlock looks annoyed and then a widespread grin is on her face.

"Oh, is this your one Mr. Holmes? Bit young." She teases.

"Good you got the signal Lyra, go check upstairs, Johns up there. "

"Sherlock what's happened?" I murmur, feeling stupidly behind on the situation.

"Oh what does it matter. Mr Holmes, that camera phone is my life, I'd die before I'd let you take it. It's my protection." Irene continues, approaching closer and holding out an expectant hand to Sherlock, who is holding presumably this precious phone.

He simply flips the phone in his hand saying " It was" and exits the room, passing me. Irene then goes to follow but I put my hand out in front of her.

"Thank you." I say, and she immediately knows I'm talking about that night at the swimming pool.

She cocks her head to the side. "I need Jim just as much as you do, Lyra. But look at that, cast me aside for you and has now dumped you. I also need Sherlock. "

She then brushes past me and I rest my head on the door. She was right, we were both fools. I follow her up into her bedroom where a ginger women lay knocked out. John was nowhere to be seen and as Sherlock and Irene milled about I examined the body.

"Well your boobytrap did just kill a man!" I hear Sherlock say to her.

"He would have killed me." I hear her reply and then look up just as I see her stab him in the arm with an injection needle. I get up immediately as Sherlock collapses, struggling to move properly. Irene gets her whip and starts hitting him, not holding anything back.

"Give it to me. Drop it, now. I. SAID. DROP IT." She hits him three times before he drops it and she bends down to pick it up. She smiles at it and as Sherlock makes another attempt to get up she pushes him back down, using her whip to trace his lips.

"This is how I want you to remember me, the woman who beat you." She tantalizes, then moves swiftly as John enters. She then grabs me and takes me to the window.  
>"What are you doing- get off me!" I shout at her, helplessly writing in her grip. John comes in and see's Sherlock on the floor.<br>"What have you done- hey get off her!" He says, confused about who to help, me or Sherlock.

"Make sure he doesn't choke on his vomit it makes for a very unattractive cause. Now me and your friend are going for a trip." She grabs a rope and hoists me, nearing the bathroom window.

"You know I was wrong about him, he did know where to look." She says, leaning one leg on the bath.

"What?!" John asks, his face becoming more and more confused.

"The safety pin, it was my measurements." She answers, and suddenly we are both falling out the window, me holding on for dear life to her and the rope. I look up to see John looking out the window.

" Lyra!" He shouts genuine worry. I pitied him, sorry John.

"Play the victim Lyra." Irene mutters in my ear as we reach the ground and I realize I needed to at least look as though I didn't want to be kidnapped. She holds me through my pretend screaming and we get into a car waiting for us. However when we get in, Jim isn't there as I hoped. The disappointment silences me and we drive off, Irene looking out the window as I sit waiting for answers.

"Where are we going?" I ask, the mystery killing me.

"I can't take you to Jim. You know going against him will cost me everything, as you saw that night when-

"Yes I know when I tried to run away." I interrupt, not wanting her to go there.

"I'll return you to Baker Street by night. For now, we're going to see someone about my protection."

I accept the offer, any way out of this stage play in Baker Street no matter how short for was a god sent gift. We get to the other side of town and she leads me into a bar full of rich looking business men and beautiful women like her. The two of us get funny looks, her more so for being in simply a coat. We get to the bar and of all the people to be sat there – Sebastian see's us over his scotch. He nearly drops his drink and looks around anxiously as we stand in front of him.

"Hello Moran." Irene says to him as he gives her the dirtiest look imaginable.

"Why have you taken her?" He replies in an angry scowl.

" Erm-excuse me. I am here." I put in, then immediately regret sounding like some sort of teenager.

"She needs answers, Moran. Now we'll sit down, have a drink and I'll have her returned by the end of the day."

Sebastian turns back to the bar and Irene orders us both a drink. What a fucking bizarre situation, Sebastian doesn't even look at me once as the three of us sit without the one man linking us all together in his web. I'm then tapped on the shoulder, and turn around to see the man from the interview waiting room looking at me like a piece of meat.

"Fancy seeing you here." He grins. I grimace as he orders me another drink.

"Thanks." I murmur, extremely aware of my audience, Sebastian and Irene who are no doubt amused.

"So, you beat me to the job today, and that's because I let you go first. I think you owe me a little thank you." I hold back sick, the man stunk of alcohol and the way he was speaking to me made him look ridiculous.

"Buddy- leave her alone." I hear Sebastian say. Wow, bit late for sticking up for me I think to myself. I catch his eye and tell him.

"It's okay, I've got this." He simply nods and sips his drink. I turn around to the man, who didn't even know my name and was expecting me to fuck him.

"Sweetie, I don't owe you a thing. Now why don't you run along in that Primark suit of yours and go bother somebody else." I smile at him falsely, watching his confidence shatter. He turns around to his group of friends and says in a loud whisper.

"Frigid bitch." I glare at the back of his head but before I know it, Sebastian was there punching him in the face, even Irene looked shocked. His friends carried him away, panicking over what looked like a broken nose. Sebastian turned to me.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"No problem." I respond, not knowing what else to say. I wish things were how they used to be, before him and Jim just left me. But the ice had been broken and we all began to get more comfortable, we drank our troubles away and I felt myself relax with Sebastian, the one person looking out for me. I felt guilty thinking of how worried John and Mrs Hudson would be, and wondered if Sherlock had woken up yet. I even started to feel as though I could one day get along with Irene, the woman was messed up on so many levels, but then was I one to judge? Before I knew it we were saying goodbye outside in the night. Irene waited for her car to pull up as Sebastian hugged me.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into my ear. "I shouldn't have seen you, I should have taken you home."

I looked up, shocked. "Don't be sorry- I've had a nice time, it was good to see you."

"I know but… everything has its consequences when it comes to breaking his rules."

I was being ushered into the car and then it was too late to ask him what he meant. We reached Baker Street and Irene came out with me. I unlocked the door and followed her up to 221B, guessing she was returning the coat. She bolted open the door without waking John up and we made it into Sherlocks bedroom where he lay asleep, muttering some deductions. We stood over him, just watching for a moment.

"Handsome isn't he? Nice cheekbones." She murmurs, admiring him. I scoff a bit too loudly and she gives me a warning glare. She then approaches him and he starts to stir.

"There there, I'm only returning your coat." She says in a seductive manner, and before I can shut my eyes she takes the coat off leaving herself nude and hangs it up on the back of his door. She turns to me.

"What, you've seen me before?" She shrugs.

"I didn't look." I argue back. She smiles and then kisses me on the cheek before leaving. I stand and wait to here her close the front door and then leave the flat myself. I descend the stairs, back to my miserable, lonely flat and unlock the door. I go to turn on the lights but before I do, an irish drawl sends shivers down my spine and I freeze in the doorway.

"Oh, you've been VERY bad."


	15. Chapter 15

I watched the snow fall delicately on the street from my window, listening and singing along quietly to my all-time favourite Christmas song

"I could have been someone…well so could anyone; you took my dreams from me…when I first found you." I murmur along to fairy-tale of New York, watching as the blanket fell over London, making everything look innocent and light.

Six months had passed since that night, and I can't help but think of him on Christmas Eve, I hated him down to my guts, but he was still in my memory, almost every night. I close my eyes and transport my mind to the most torturous night of my life.

"I did tell you." He said as he stepped into the light as I close the door behind me, not turning away from him. "I did tell you, if you didn't do as I told you, I'd come to you, and make you stop this romantic melancholy bullshit."

I had imagined us meeting again so many times in my head, but now I saw each and every one of the scenarios I invented were illusions. I had been a fool to think he loved me back. I stood still, waiting for him to go on. He was still half in the shadows, the orange street light the only thing making him visible.

"Look at you; you think you're so grown up now. You're nothing. You're not even good at the job you're supposed to be doing. You just…misbehave… all the time." He murmurs, distracted. He then looks right into my eyes, and there was no warmth in the brown of his. "I've had enough… do you know what happens when I've had enough, when I'm full up?"

I respond in a hoarse whisper form the suppressed tears. "No."

He smirks and approaches me, prolonging the answer until he is looming over me. "I take…more." He growls, and pushes me against the door, holding onto my arms with a grip so strong I can't think of anything but the pain. He kisses me harshly, and I give him nothing back. He retreats for a breath.

"Kiss me back or I'll break your arms right here." He snarls, and I gulp back before letting him. His lips push on mine so intensely I feel mine start to swell and he only makes it worse by biting down harshly. Suddenly he stops, and slowly walks away from me, rubbing his lips and drags the kitchen table chair out into the middle of the floor and sits down on it, just looking at me. My hand reaches for the doorknob just as his reaches for the gun in his pocket.

"Think Lyra, think this time. What would you rather? There's A, go out there and I'll shoot you. B, go out there and I'll have you put in prison for life for murder or C, come here and lie across my lap like a good girl."

I force my legs to walk towards him, my fists clenched and I could barely breathe. He smiles and pats his lap, then his expression turns angry and his patience quickly shifts. He grabs me and hauls me across his lap instead, my head held in his left palm, his right palm stroking up and down my leg. He turns my head to the side and kisses me again then grabs my mouth to keep my head to the side. He lifts up my skirt and uses his teeth once more to take down my underwear.

"I've been waiting so long for this." He breathes and brings down his right hand on me with such strength the held back tears immediately start streaming down my face and I let out a cry, but he doesn't stop. He hits my backside again and again until my flesh feels raw and my tears have dried on my cheeks. He grunts with every slap until he is satisfied and then rolls me off him and I land with a crash onto the floor. He then bends down next to me, and I see he is contemplating how to abuse me next.

"You really can't keep the tears in can you…" He comments, then flips me over onto my back, and my sore backside on the wooden floor makes the pain even worse. I close my eyes and try to breathe, but then he picks me up fully and carries me into the bathroom. He looks as though he is trying to make this as hard for me and as enjoyable for him as he can, but doesn't know what to do. He carries me into the shower and turns the water on full heat. The scalding of it burns me and I scream, flinching away trying to back into the corner. He takes off my soaking clothes and then I hear him take off his own.

"You've never looked more appetizing Lyra." I hear him say as I face the corner of the shower in a cowering stance. I sense him stand right behind me and he slides me from the corner to the flat wall, pulling my hair to the side and wrapping it around his fist. He then put his leg in-between mine, forcing them apart.

"Wider." He breathes and I comply, there was no escape. He then grabs my hips, digging into my skin with his nails and enters me hard. I cry out and he pulls back my hair, telling me to shut up. He then starts to move, really move. He pounds into me and I lose all control, my body betraying my mind. He grunts in my ear and groans, his hands reaching round to grope my breasts and he pulls at my nipples.

"Put your hands around my neck." He commands and I do, the soreness of them making my biceps ache. He takes full advantage of me open neck and bites down hard. He keeps his mouth on me as he draws close, but he wants me to surrender.

"Come on. I know you need to, come Lyra." He growls and I feel my body wind up then as he empties himself into me, I meet him in the pleasure of such an awful torture. The high only lasts for a moment, as soon enough he turns off the shower and gets out, leaving me there. He returns dressed and dried, and looks down on me.

"Don't leave your job again, Seb will told me, he has told me. And I will tell you this, you're never going to return unless you fucking break Sherlock Holmes." He says, and with that, he was gone out of my life for half a year.

Back in the present, I hear everyone upstairs at the Christmas drinks do. I then hear the front door open and someone knock on my door. Molly, looking much overdressed compared to my knitted dress and shiny and made up convinces me to join her upstairs. I reluctantly comply and meet all the people of whom the last months had been spent getting to know and earning their trust. Sherlock was yet to warm to me. I smirk as I see Greg Lestrades mouth hang open when Molly reveals her slim figure, I had to say she did have more to offer than people thought. John, here with his girlfriend Jeanette, had taken sympathy for me after the apparent 'kidnap' with Irene Adler, yet Sherlock often piped up random questions about it which was hard to keep up with and make lies on the spot for. After remaining ignorant of the 'party' Sherlock suddenly stands up and says to Molly. "I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him." I turn to Molly, surely she would have told me?

"Sorry, what?" She replies, she clearly had no clue what he was on about either.

"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift." He continues, I hear John quietly mutter something and I smile at him, knowing we were both not in the mood.

"Oh, come on. Surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag – perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best. It's for someone special, then. " He goes to pick up the well-wrapped present and continues, though all eyes including mine are telling him to stop. "The shade of red echoes her lipstick – either an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has lurrrve on her mind. The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift at all."

I see John look at Molly as she squirms in front of Sherlock, and I realize where this is going. _Oh, Molly, I'm so sorry. _Sherlock continues saying absolute dribble and he trails off as he looks down on the writing of the tag and I see him realize what he has done, even I could guess the present was for him, I didn't need to read the tag for that.

"You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always." Molly says, I silently pride her on her new found courage, she had come a long way these months, partially due to my advice on men, for which I can't follow myself.

What Sherlock said surprised me even more. "I am sorry. Forgive me." John looks up, startled too at such a human reaction. Sherlock leans forward and kisses Molly on the cheek, murmuring "Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper." The moment is still and sweet, until it is interrupted by the sound of an orgasmic sigh, to which Molly gasps in shock.

"No! That wasn't ... I – I didn't ..." She fumbles around, but I knew that voice from anywhere.

"No, it was me." Sherlock replies, to which Molly and Greg react in shock. Sherlock clarifies it was his phone and I suppress a smile, remembering a drunken moment of that night in the bar with Irene and Sebastian where I dared her to make that her text tone. But I was intrigued, I hadn't seen her in half a year, where was she? Sherlock reads the text, then walks over to the mantelpiece, picking up a small box wrapped in blood-red paper and tied with black rope-like string. He excuses himself to his bedroom and me and John look at each other, wondering what to do.

I give him a moment and then follow John to his room, where I can see through the door he is sat on his bed on the phone, and in front of him was….Irenes phone.

"No, I mean you're going to find her dead." I hear him say and then he hangs up and walks towards us.

"You okay?" John asks.

"Yes."

He pushes past us but I barely feel it, my mind had gone blank. She couldn't be dead, she couldn't be. Grief washes over me and I grab my coat, intending to follow him. I get the next taxi and follow him to ST. Barts Hospital with Molly, who says she's been called into work.

We arrive at the morgue, and Sherlock doesn't even comment at my presence. I saw the concern in his face and I myself mirrored it. Mycroft was stood with us, the man terrified me.

"The face is a bit, sort of, bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult." Molly says, before pulling the sheet down the body on the table to reveal the face. I stare, I couldn't be sure…

"That's her, isn't it?" Mycroft inputs.

"Show me the rest of her." Sherlock says to Molly, who pulls a grimacing face before pulling the sheet back and Sherlock looks along the length of the body before turning and walking away.

"That's her."

I went home quickly, wanting to be left alone. I had lost my only potential link, she misbehaved like me, and she got what she wanted. And now she was gone, there was no way she could misbehave again and help me. Perhaps I could learn from her legacy, and this time remember I need protection.

It was the middle of the night when someone knocked on my door, waking me up from a nightmarish sleep. I opened the door to see a bereaved looking Sherlock.

"Walk." He whispered.

"Sorry?" I grumble.

"That's what people do right….walk." He repeats, and I instantly understand and sympathise. I grab my coat and put on shoes, and we walk in the snow right through the park in understandable silence, reaching the park and sitting down on the bench in front of the frozen lake.

"Funny… the lake. So beautiful when it's flowing, yet the coldness freezes it, gives it a hard surface to crack." I contemplate, examining our surrounding.

Sherlock looks at me. "You sound stupid." He comments and I chuckle, knowing I did. He continues "You knew her…the woman."

I didn't see any point in lying to him when he knew, and besides, I needed his trust. "Yes, I did."

"How?" He asked.

"She was my sort of guide for a while. Not in that way, just…helped me. I don't know how to explain it."

Sherlock sighs, sounding disappointed. "Yes, of course." I then look to him and I saw tears welling in his eyes. I put my arm around him and he bends down, putting his hand into his palms as I rub his back. We stay like this for a few moments, and then I rest my head on his shaking back and soothe him.

"I'm going to miss her too, Sherlock."

I had finally deduced his heart, and now it was up to Jim to burn it out of him.


	16. Chapter 16

I stood in front of the photocopier, waiting as the notices printed out, office work really was boring and it wasn't rubbing off after all this time. I picked the sheets up and started my daily routine of handing them around, getting short 'thanks' and 'cheers' as I went, same as every day. I was stopped by Andrea, who stood in my way in the corridor.

"Yes?" I asked her.

"Come with me, Miss Harley." She said, though the words were threatening she said them with a warm, reassuring smile. She turned on the spot and started walking towards the lift, and I followed her without a sound. We went down the floors one by one in silence as I wondered what this was about, she was often short and snappy about any old demand but as we descended I felt this was different for some unknown reason. I continued to follow her as we left the building, where a black car was waiting for us that reminded me of Jim. I got in it and stayed still in the back as she texted away on her phone.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

She smiles, not looking up from her phone and answers "Business trip."

I roll my eyes, was I ever going to meet someone who didn't love tension? After about twenty minutes of driving, we arrived outside an old factory. It was disused and crumbling, but I didn't question it as she led through the narrow corridors and scaffolding. She then stopped.

"This is where I leave you." She said, and turned around to walk in the opposite direction. I stare after her frowning, what the hell was going on? Her clipped high-heel steps clacked away and it was only when different, heavier footsteps appeared on the other side that I turned away from her, to see Mycroft Holmes.

"Hello Effy Harley." He smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. I folded my arms across my chest, suddenly feeling defensive as he strolled towards me, holding his umbrella.

"So he was right, I am working for the British Government itself" I smirked, well done Sherlock.

"He does like to meddle, doesn't he? But you'd know that- you apparently know him best out of anyone." Mycroft said, looking at me in consideration.

"I doubt that, we barely ever talk." I respond, not breaking eye contact.

"No…but some time ago… he went to you for a little…cry." He shuddered as he said the last word. "What does that tell us about him and you, Lyra?"

I froze on the spot, the iceman had got me.

"How did you kn-"

He continued. "Lyra Harley, 17 year old went missing just outside of London around 8 months ago, only person that really cared about her was a young Dominik but never the less we heard about it. Now someone has gone to a great deal of effort to falsify your records, but did you really think this could go on forever?"

My mind went fuzzy and I couldn't string a sentence together, I had no idea what to do.

"Oh dear, so young, so Lyra, tell me what you are going to do now? Run from the law?" He stepped towards me. "Hand yourself in?"

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to give myself more time.

"Neither, I want Jim Moriarty." He said, and my eyes widened as I realized the purpose behind all of this. "I know you are a weapon, Miss Harley, not the plotter behind whatever the man's game is with my brother. I won't tell Sherlock and you will go on living in 221C as you have been, except without your puppeteer, you will simply be an ordinary resident."

"And If I don't?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him which he mirrored.

"You have 24 hours." He wavered, as he turned around and strolled away from me. His footsteps timed with my loud heartbeat whilst I waited for hers to return. And surely enough, Andrea took me back to the office and then claimed she had to take someone else back to that same factory.

I went through the shift unable to focus on any numbers or conference calls, all I could do was mull over what to do, what I had gotten myself into. I couldn't hand Jim in, though he had left me for so long and our last encounter wasn't exactly warming, I knew his plot would go beyond me and he would be able to have his revenge if I did. I escaped to the smoker's area on the street and lit up, unable to cope with the stress. What would Mycroft do if I didn't give him details? What would happen to me? Tears spring to my eyes; I had never anticipated this happening. I looked up at the tall, colourless glass buildings seeming to tower over me in a patronizing manner to make me feel small and scanned the windows for interest. Then, once again I saw someone with a camera looking back at me through the lens. I quickly got my stuff and ran inside; I needed to find out who this stalker was. I dodged past security and ran up the stairs, too impatient for the lift. I calculated the floor and opened the door into an ordinary looking office. Then, right by the window I saw black, fluffy hair- before security was on me.

"No- I need to see" I tried to protest, not believing my own eyes, it couldn't be… it wasn't possible. The two men shoved me out and escorted me right till I was back on the pavement. In a glance I saw what was really strange, no earpiece, no ID, just black clothes. Those men weren't security; they were someone else's employees. I got a taxi back home instead of going back to work, not able to raise any more questions for the day. It couldn't have been him, I was just getting my hopes up, what would he be doing in an office…he was three months younger than me. Hope and sentiment was all this was, this façade. And if it wasn't him… why was someone taking photos of me?

I got in the flat and set the keys down on the table, rubbing my forehead, hoping to cure my migraine. I poured myself a scotch, though it was only the afternoon and sat down, weighing my options. Just as I try to map out each and every possibility, I hear the front door open, and then Mrs Hudson.

"Who are you?" I hear her ask whoever had just come in, and I then peak through the door and see a group of men in suits with guns, earpieces and a look of violence about them. Perfect, a distraction. I reach for my gun and step out the door, pointing it directly at them just as they grab Mrs Hudson. Where was Sherlock, or John?

"Put her down, now." I tell them, not budging.

"Missy I suggest you move your ass out of the way or I'll take that little pistol of yours and make you shoot this woman yourself." The leader replied, taking out his gun and pointing it right back at me.

"Oh I doubt that." I scorned, feeling the blood start to really pump. He signals his two bodyguards to get me and as they step towards me I grab the stouter ones arm and bend it behind his back, making him cry out in pain. The other one picks me up and I kick about until I hit him squarely in the crotch, a technique proved to be a sure winner. I fend them off as Mrs Hudson squeals, dodging their grip and smacking them in the face with my gun. I only stop when I pause for a moment to catch my breath and I see the American holding his gun to Mrs Hudsons head, I immediately drop my weapon.

"Ah, looks like care overtook violence in you." He said to me as I hang my head, cursing myself. He then looks at his bodyguards. "Take her upstairs."

I was dragged into Sherlocks bedroom by the two men and kept there whilst Mrs Hudson was kept in the living room with their leader, I had tape over my mouth for some unknown reason, might have been the swearing. I then hear the door open downstairs and exhale through my nose and close my eyes, _bit late Sherlock._

I hear them talk with each other, and then the American raises his voice so that I and the men can hear him.

"Mr. Holmes for every answer you refuse me I will have my boys take it out on your young neighbour, and they have their ways with beautiful women might I add."

I turned around in horror, looking up at the two men who stared down at me greedily. _Sherlock, please._ I heard Sherlock shout "I don't know- do you understand that?!" I then heard thudding, he was coming in. The beefier bodyguard quickly stepped to the door and kept it shut, making Sherlocks attempts useless.

" Have your fun boys!" the American cackled and suddenly the brown haired one was straddling me as I writhed helplessly, tears gushing as he tried to take my top off. I tried to make any noise- but none could escape through the tape. Sherlock banged against the door as I tried to smack the man away, but he kept pinning my arms down and trying to touch me. The look of greed on the man's face was enough to make me sick. I then heard Sherlocks footsteps disappear back to the living room.

"Looks like your hero doesn't mind girlie!" he said, now pulling my skirt down. A thud then makes him pause to look up, just as the door holder starts undoing his belt, saying "If he's got himself beaten I'm not missing out on my turn." _Oh my god._ But just as he leaves the door, advancing towards me, Sherlock opens it and immediately hits him over the head. The man on me then scrambles off in a panic, cowering under a terrifying stare from Sherlock I hadn't seen before. He doesn't hit him though, he simply watches as they run out the building. Once they are gone, he looks down on me.

"You okay?" He asked. I rip the tape off my mouth with my now unrestrained hands.

"Fine." I reply, making myself decent, trying to hide from him my tear stained face. I stand up to follow him through the hallway into the living room, where the American was sat, tied to the chair with his mouth gagged and his face covered in bloody specs. Sherlock sits across the room whilst Mrs Hudson sits on the edge of the sofa. I choose to stand behind the American, and Sherlock watches with intrigue as I bend down over him.

"Pleased to see me, or do you have something that belongs to me?" I say, reaching for his trouser pocket and pull out my gun, feeling the Americans eyes boring into me with contempt at being beaten. I give him a smirk, just as John appears at the door, asking what was going on.

Sherlock replies "An American has attacked Mrs Hudson and our neighbour Effy; I'm restoring balance to the universe."

John looks at me and see's I'm fine then makes his way to Mrs Hudson, asking her if she was alright. I watch as he looks at her with care and tilt my head at him, _funny_.

Mrs Hudson puts her face in her hands crying "Oh I've just been so silly." Sherlock looks at me before standing up, holding his phone to his ear and keeping his gun pointed at the American.

"Take her downstairs." He ordered John, who did exactly that, leaving the odd three. I wonder why he didn't tell me to go downstairs as he says down the phone

"Lestrade, we've had a break in at Baker Street, send your least irritating officers and an ambulance…. Oh no we're fine, it's the burglar, got himself rather badly injured…fell out a window." Sherlock looks towards the man and I smile down at him, oh this is going to be fun. Sherlock hangs up the phone as me and him move to stand directly in front of him side by side.

"Effy if you'd like to take your go now, just as he had them men take their go with you." He said and I smiled up at him, he knew me. I bend down in front of the American and stretch my arm to tilt the chair back on its two back legs, and then punch him hard in the face. I continue till I hear his nose crack and step back, finally satisfied. Sherlock then heaves him off the chair and, to my surprise, manages to haul him out the window and we hear him crash onto the bins. He looks back at me and I shake my head at him, _drama queen._

"Punches can get boring." He muttered. I then close In on him and he looks down at me in confusion before I wrap my arms around his torso in a hug.

"Thank you Sherlock." I murmur into his chest.

"It's what friends are for- saving each other." He replied, struggling to return the friendly bear like hug.

"Not just that, for knowing I needed revenge."

The evening passed on, Scotland Yard turned up and that was when I retreated back to my bedroom, hiding from Detective Lestrade. I had been so wrapped up in the break in I had forgotten the heavy burden looming over me, handing Jim over to the British government for my own personal freedom. I suddenly felt very young and…silly, how such a high cost had been put on me and I had no idea what to do. I didn't have to meet Mycroft until tomorrow night, I still had time. I went to bed exhausted, but haunting thoughts kept my mind awake all night.

"Hello again, Lyra."

Her voice woke me up, and I bounded up so fast blood rushed to my head. I steadied my vision and saw her standing in Sherlocks dressing gown.

I smiled weakly. "This dream is an actual joke." I closed my eyes and lied back down, waiting to wake up in reality. "I need to stop having dead people in my dreams."

"Oh dear, how adorable." I heard her murmur. I then felt her sit down on the bed- wait what? I peeked one eye open and saw her sitting on the edge looking at me sympathetically.

"Very graphic." I consider maybe I had officially lost it.

"Oh for god's sake Lyra I'm not dead." She states, sounding to be impatient.

"Yes you are, you were in St. Barts, and face bashed beyond ruin and put in the-" She interrupts me by slapping me hard across the face. I sit up, looking shocked at her for a moment. Without a word, I then scramble up and run out my apartment, her following me. I clamber up the stairs and burst into Sherlocks apartment where he and John were sat eating breakfast. Irene follows me and stands behind as I look at the pair, seeing Sherlocks face turn into surprise and panic.

"For god's sake can someone alive tell me if I'm awake or not?!" I shout at them, Sherlock suddenly clambers out of his seat and straightens up.

"Now, Effy, calm down. I understand you'll have a lot of questions- so did I"

John looked between the two- or three of us in confusion. "Wait- what's going on?"

I look between Sherlock and Irene, and see them glance at each other. He can see her, it dawns on me finally.

"You let me believe you were dead…" I murmur as I realize it all.

"I had to; people were going to kill me. Now can we move on, I've already talked to the boys. I don't fancy repeating myself again."

"No, no you're not just going to pass this by okay? I need answers, Irene." I say to her, fury dripping my tone. She looks at the boys, who are examining our connection carefully, and then takes my hand and leads me back downstairs to my apartment.

"Have you completely forgotten you're undercover Lyra, or has missing Jim made you crave his attention again?" She spat, now angry herself.

"Sherlock knows I know you, I just didn't explain how. Please, will you tell me what's going on?!" I responded, trying to keep it together when it felt like my mind was going to explain. Was anyone I thought dead really dead?

"There is a time for that Lyra, and it's not now. But you, you have a time limit. Tell me, what was your first thought, in handing Jim over to Mycroft? She said, looking me boldly in the eye. I flustered, what was I supposed to say?

"Does he know?" I barely whisper.

"Yes, and he's looking forward to your answer. He thinks you will, because he thinks you're scared of Mycroft. Silly really, I thought you were better. Knew betraying him would only make you lose the game, not him."

I sit down, feeling as if a ton was on my shoulders.

"Don't switch to the losing side, Lyra." She said, finishing the conversation. She pecked me on the cheek and then went back upstairs; I wondered briefly why she was staying with Sherlock. But then the thought made me smirk, she was playing him just as she played everyone. She was right, I was going to lose if I let Mycroft win.

However the day passed as any other day, and when I saw the sun setting I started to really panic about how much would change in the next few hours. I got home and decided I didn't want to dwell in my thoughts any longer, so I went upstairs to Sherlocks apartment, only to find it empty. I checked my phone and saw I had a text from her

"Outside."

I looked out the window, but all that was there was the black car. So, it was a trip. I got my stuff and entered the car on my own, the driver cruising off. We drove to a fancy townhouse on the outskirts, and we parked where I could see right into the window where Irene, Sherlock and Mycroft were. What was going on? I then received another text from her.

"A good show of why you should stay on the winning side. " It said, and just as I finished reading it the driver passed me over an earpiece which I inserted and realized I could hear the conversation going on inside. Irene seemed to be dominating the room, but then again that was what she did. She had just passed Mycroft a piece of paper.

"I imagine you'd like to sleep on it." Her voice came from the earpiece. I smirked, so this was her idea of convincing.

"Thank you yes." He replied.

"Too bad." She said and I almost let out a laugh.

"I wish our lot were as half as good as you." He said, and I pretended to be offended, someday I'd have to prove myself to that man at work.

"Can't take all the credit, had a bit of help…. Jim Moriarty sends his love." I look up as she mentions his name, and I see Sherlock do the same. Irene then went on to explain how Jim had done it, whatever game the iceman, dominatrix and virgin had played. A stab of jealousy hit me as she described Jim as 'her kind of man' but I knew really I had no right to be jealous of her, Jim was no ones to have.

"The dominatrix that brought a nation to its knees. Nicely played." Were Mycroft's words before Sherlock stood up, and I saw Irene glance at the window- she was scared, and now I was intrigued. I listened as Sherlock challenged her, telling her she had got carried away.

"Sentiment. Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side." I listened closely as I realized the words fit in to my own situation and choice, and how they conflicted with what Irene wanted me to see and copy. "

I then realized Irene and Sherlock's connection, and I watched as it crumbled before me. Sherlock answered Irene's challenge to his statement by saying. "Because I took your pulse. Elevated, your pupils dilated. I imagine John Watson thinks love is a mystery to me but the chemicals to it are very simple and very distractive." Tears welled in my eyes as I watched Irene's scene fall apart, and as I realized what I had to do. Memories of Jim, the sentiment, the pool, the birthday, distractions. I stepped out the car, ignoring the driver's protests. I walked numbly up to the house as I continued to listen to my lesson, though the teacher had changed to Sherlock now.

"This is your heart. And you should never let it rule your head….I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage…thank you for the final proof."

I couldn't see through the window now, but I heard Irene tell him "I was just playing the game." I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"I know, and this is just losing."

The door man opened, looking at me quizzically.

"I'm here to speak to Mycroft Holmes."

_I was not going to lose to sentiment like she did; I was going to make him lose this time. _


	17. Chapter 17

"Thank you Miss Harley, you have done the right thing. We can get some answers, and you can have your freedom from bribery from the man. And, a word of warning, if you tell my brother about any of this it will result in your immediate incarceration. He cannot know about this, just like you don't want anyone to know you are not on our side at all." Mycroft said, leaning his elbows on the desk.

"Yeah….fine." I look down at mahogany carpet, unable to face his stone cold stare. "As long as no one will come after me."

"The British government will no longer have any concern. Besides, your murder of those 'friends' of Moriartys was good for us, decreased our crime rate 10% actually. I understand your…relationship…with the man was complicated, but I appreciate you have pushed that aside for now. You outdid Irene Adler, even she fell to…affection."

"I just did what was best for me." I say, and see myself out the room. As soon as I was home, I cried my eyes out for betraying him, I knew it was right, but the pain would always be there, always. I didn't want to be alone, so I texted Molly, asking her to come round. She came round with chocolate, girlie films and her onesie, telling me she could sense something was wrong from my voice over the phone. Halfway through Bridget Jones she turned to me.

"So do you want to talk about it?"

I pretended to be swallowing some dairy milk to give myself a few seconds before answering, to make up something. "Boy trouble, I'd rather not go into it." I managed.

"You can't just- bottle it up, it doesn't work like that." She replied, pulling a face. I turn back to the film and pretend to watch it, suddenly feeling very drained. We finished the film, Molly awed at the kiss ending and we got ready for bed, feeling very teenage like having a sleepover. She got in the bed next to me and looked up at me.

"You know I'm always here, Effy. We all are, John, Mrs Hudson, even Sherlock, we all care about you." She murmurs.

"I know…" I reply, deep in thought. How could they care so much? We lied there in silence until I heard Molly snore lightly. I stay awake through the night, trying to figure out what was going to happen. I had done the right thing- I think. It was hard, this whole picking sides' thing, and something I never anticipated. But I couldn't live my life imprisoned by his threats and the authorities.

In the morning, it took me by surprise that Sherlock and John had gone to Devon on a case, and Baker Street felt very lonely. I decided to just work the day away, to distract myself from the thought of where he was, what he was going through. I sat at my desk in the office and concentrated on all the emails coming in, which gave me file work upon file work. Someone at the office was leaving for another job, so the afternoon took a different sort of toll on me, having to socialize whilst eating cheap cake. Some girl from finance was watching me pour a drink, adding my own ingredient of vodka from my lucky hipflask in my bag.

"Starting early are we?" she asked and I immediately detected her Irish accent, reminding me of him once more.

"Just a bit. Sorry- what's your name?" I smile at her, she seemed quite nice.

"Janine- I'm the one leaving." She laughed off the awkwardness as I struggle out an apology.

"Oh-sorry. I'm Effy, so what's the job?"

"Oh it's nothing major- I'll be PA for a big boss at a news company, Magnusson is the name. I'm sure it'll be just as boring as this place.

I stuck with Janine for the rest of the office, disappointed to realize she was leaving just as I was making a new friend, I'd likely never see the girl again. I probably just liked her because of the accent- how sentimental could I get. The sunset and I finally got to leave the office, hailing a taxi and I allowed myself to admire London at night. I looked up at the tall buildings and everyone going out, I suddenly felt very lonely. The TV screen then fuzzed, distracting me from the beauty. But just as I was about to ask the cabbie to turn it down- he appeared on the screen. I jolted forward and watched him as he looked right into me through the glass.

"Hello, my dear. Having fun in the 'free world' you've got yourself from our Sherlocks dear brother? I bet you are, I know you are. Tell me, how much do you miss it already, the thrill? Girly sleepovers and office parties? No… but it's okay. Because I've got a surprise for you, oh if only you'd been listening in to Mycroft and Irene's conversation closer, you'd know. He told her, I was DESPERATE for his attention, and you gave me it! His men will be arriving soon, probably try to beat the shit out of me, does that make you happy? It shouldn't, because you played right into it all. You've given me the key to Sherlock, through his brother. But that doesn't mean you don't escape, no… we'll get the same treatment, make it nice and sweet." With that, the screen turned black, just as I realized the taxi had stopped. I acted quickly, getting out the cab to face the driver. I leaned into the window, holding my gun at his head and almost dropped it as I saw.

"Seb…" I whisper, horrified. But instead of responding he pulls me in closer by the collar and whispers back, close to me ear.

"I'll come back for you."

He then speeds off, and I see I've been purposefully left in a council estate area, which looked pretty shady. I made my way down the deserted street, sticking close to the flickering orange lamps and trying to find a way back to Baker Street. I reach into my pockets, and then panic as I can't feel my phone. Seb must've taken it when he told me he'd come back, bastard. But when was that, and why? I then hear whistles behind me, so I start to speed up.

"Oi love, don't be frigid! Come back 'ere!" I heard a strong cockney accent, and I really started to worry about how this would end. No, I was better than this, I knew how to handle such a common problem. I feel them drawing nearer, and dare a glance behind. God, they were all beasts. I start to run and reach the corner, turning it before bumping straight into two more of them. The lagging three then cornered me.

"What do you want?" I stutter, holding my purse defensively.

"Jim Moriarty sent us. " With those words, I saw this wasn't just some messed up gang, these were his men. One of them then head-butted me and I fell to the ground, taken by surprise, they certainly weren't afraid to hurt a girl. My head hit the slab hard and I blacked out after moments of painful effort to stay conscious.

7 days…

14 days….

30 days…

I counted the numbers in my head, the days I had been in this cell, it was all I could focus on. That and the number of purple bruises that dotted my fair skin. I heaved myself up to the toilet and coughed up some more blood, then wiped my mouth and waited for them to come. I was so weak, I could barely remember if they beat me in the morning, the afternoon, or at night. Sometimes it was all three. They didn't even want anything from me; I once heard them whisper that it was Jim 'toughening me up'. Sebastian hadn't come for me, Sherlock hadn't saved me, John hadn't been there, not even Irene. But then again, I suppose she is tormented I handed Jim in. But who I was most angry at was Mycroft, the one person who ensured my safety had failed, Jim couldn't be beaten. I heard the clutch on the door, and scrunched my eyes closed as the haunting tapping of shoes drew near me.

"How are we feeling today? What's it been now, a month?" The man said gruffly, I looked up and laughed.

"I'm feeling fabulous, hunny. How about you?" I replied, flashing my bloody teeth manically. He smirked, knowing I had grown indifferent to his taunts. The day went on; I had my head held under water, my ribs kicked in and my hair pulled until they had had enough. It was the dead of the night when someone came in and I groaned, I had my double doses but I really couldn't do it tonight.

"Please, not tonight." I begged, facing the corner of the room.

"You're released." His voice said, I turned around and saw him, so he did come back for me.

"Hello Seb, like seeing me like this do you?" I tantalized.

"Don't be a drama queen; you know it's Jim that takes pleasure in this. Mycroft has let him go, so he wants you to go." He stated, as if conversing the weather.

"He just…let him go? After all that's happened to me because I handed him in, without my fucking promised protection?!" I shouted, hauling myself up, barely being supported by my bony legs.

"Jesus, you look like that girl from the Ring." He commented, and I lashed out on him, clawing anywhere I could get to with no effect. My legs then gave out and I fell, but before I hit the floor Seb scooped me up and carried me out the cold, bleak prison room.

"It's the start of the end, Lyra. And also, good to see you."

Me and Sebastian drove in silence, after I had been given a change of clothes. I knew I looked dead, barely more than bones and my hair was greasy and mangled. We parked outside and I took a deep breath.

"What are you going to say?" Seb asked softly.

"I've been on my holidays, to celebrate 'freedom'." I reply numbly.

"Good choice."

I gave him a smile, knowing the situation was the strangest we'd ever been in, and our friendship was so broken and that us holding onto it would only result in more pain. He gave me one last look before saying "You're so much stronger." Before leaving.

I put my key in the door and enter, waiting for her to come out.

"Effy?! Where have you been- Oh my goodness the state of you! What happened?! No word, no note!" Mrs Hudson cried as she rushed towards me. I then hear them thud down the stairs and see me, and the care in their eyes was enough to make tears spring to my eyes, oh god, I couldn't lie to them, I couldn't. My tiredness sweeps over me and I let Mrs Hudson hold me as the boys stand and watch me. They take me upstairs and John and I sit on the couch, his arm around me whilst Sherlock paces the room and Mrs Hudson sets about for tea.

"Can you tell us anything?" John asks, looking at me sympathetically.

"No… please, don't make a fuss I'm alive." I cry, putting my hands into my hands and dragging my fingers through my messy hair.

"Effy, its okay. You're safe now." John reassured. I'd learnt not to trust other people to keep you safe. Sherlock stopped and looked at me intensely.

"Why did they target you?" He frowned, and I could see the cogs whirring in that funny old head of his.

"I don't know, but I can't tell you anything, I don't know anything."

"Well, you can stay up here tonight, we don't want any more of this, and you've been through too much. You can use our bath, I'll sleep on the couch, take all the time you need."

I don't say anything, I just hug him as tightly as I can, and I really did appreciate this brave man in my life.

After my refreshing bath, I emerge out the bathroom with a towel around me and accidentally bump right into Sherlock as he was on his way into his room.

"Sorry Sherlock!" I splutter. He steps back silently and looks at me, he was still trying to figure it out, oh I wish I could tell him.

"Effy…Scotland Yard…though mostly useless.. if you want-" He started

"No. I don't want the police involved, I'd rather just forget about it." He nodded and went into his room, but I could see he wasn't asking for care, he wanted to know why I didn't want the authorities involved. Truth is, the only person I wanted to see was Mycroft, and ask why he failed to rescue me in 'respect of our agreement'.

Me, Sherlock and John stayed up late, they kept asking me questions which I tried to answer as vaguely as I could, I could see they cared, but I had to keep Jim in mind. John made up his bed on the couch though I protested I didn't have to sleep in his bed and me and Sherlock went to our beds. John's room was simple enough, yet anything that made a shadow made me fear closing my eyes for sleep. In the middle of the night I heard Sherlock burst in in his slacks and dressing gown, and started picking up papers scattered around John's room.

"It doesn't make any sense!" He shouted, and I shot up, looking at him in rage.

"Sherlock! What are you doing?!" I say in a hushed but angry whisper, not wanting to wake John up. He whipped around and pointed at me, and I could see he was manic about all this.

"You. You know keeping things from me is silly. It doesn't work! Tell me who took you and why, Effy!"

"God, you really can't stand not knowing can you?"

"Just one thing, Effy! Please." He looked feverish, his hair bigger and curlier than before and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin. Fear, that's what this was. He knew something was coming.

"It's coming, Sherlock. I'm sorry." I cough out, knowing the words, how vague they were, were dangerous. His eyes widened and he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He knew, he knew I knew Moriarty. I had confirmed his suspicions, a cold hard dread weighed me down and I knew Sebastian was right, the start of the end was happening, and I wasn't sure of my place, or what I had to do, but soon I would have to choose between my friends and my own heart again.

In the morning, I wandered into the kitchen to find Sherlock looking into the microscope in the kitchen and John sat down in his chair in his dressing gown, fresh out the shower. The atmosphere was tense between me and Sherlock, both of us anticipating the worse. He had got himself a distraction, so I made myself one by making breakfast, when really I still couldn't stomach food as for a month I had been puking out my guts in a prison toilet. Sherlocks phone then buzzed and John got up, offering to get it for Sherlock in a sarcastic manner. I watched him, my heart in my mouth as I saw his eyebrows furrow and his own heart sink. I saw Sherlock's shoulders stiffen but he didn't look up from the lens. John approached him with the phone held out in his head.

"Sherlock. He's back."

Sherlock takes the phone and I read over his shoulder.

Tower Hill,

Come and play.

JM.

An hour later, me, Sherlock and John had arrived at the Tower of London. We were filled in on the 'crime of the century' where Jim had dressed as a tourist and managed to break into here, pentoville prison and the bank of England all in one go. But I knew this was just a show, him showing off. Me and John stood behind as Sherlock scanned the security footage. I watched Jim dance around and then just before he breaks the glass, Sherlock pauses it on the message inscribed on the glass wall "GET SHERLOCK." And I know the message is meant for me, he knew I'd be here. I look at the back of Sherlocks head, could I 'get' him? I had no desire to be in this game at all anymore, but I missed him so badly.

Moriartys POV

I stand obediently in my white grey suit as the bodyguards put me in handcuffs, reminding me of the woman so much I smirk. I knew the three of them were waiting for me, and I couldn't wait to see her bambi little face again. Of course, torture has probably made her a little less beautiful, but the fact we were in it at the same time makes it so dark and enjoyable to see. I'm led through the dingy greenish corridor and into the courtroom. I'm taken to my position and I peek up at my audience, spotting her there, sitting next to John…a little two close. Have we been making lots of new friends Lyra? I turn around and as I do, a stout blonde security woman comes up to me to check me. I decide to give Lyra a little taste of jealousy/

"Do you mind slipping you hand into my pocket?" I drawl at her, she looks to the men behind me and they must gesture its fine as she then slides her hand into my trouser pockets and picks out my chewing gum. I can see out the corner of my eye Lyra's face turning green with envy, and I stick out my tongue, where she places the gum.

"Thanks." I smirk, giving her a look up and down, watching her blush and then I turn to him, Sherlock. The court goes on under his lead, he annoys the judge with his intellect whilst I admire it and before I know it the court session is over, with little concluded but the fact Sherlock couldn't help but show off, deducing the jury, who are all under my thumb in fact. I must remember to thank Seb for setting up the hotel television channel with my little threat message to them. I watch as Sherlock gets put in a cell room for getting clever with the judge and then I am led into the same room. He faces the wall whilst I face the door on his side, and then he turns around so that we are equal.

"Yes, Sherlock?" I smile at him in a sickly sweet manner.

"I have one question, concerning Effy Harley." He says, doing up the buttons of his blazer.

"Go on." I egg him further, milking it until he has to face the mystery of the girl head on.

"Who is she? And what do you want with her? "He continues, practically spitting the words out.

"That's two questions, you can't cheat. Either you know who she is, or what she has to do with me."

"Fine, what do you want with her?

I frown. "Oohh- risky question, trust me the WHO is must more interesting. I just find her interesting, based on who she is. I'm sure you would too. Yes, I did have her tortured. Why? Because she needed to be, she handed me in to that dear brother of yours, she must like you."

Sherlock doesn't respond, he just thinks. He'll be on this one for a while. We stand in silence until Watson bails him out. As he leaves, he turns back to me and says coldly. " Stay away from her." I lean my head on the wall and watch him, smiling at the thought of him caring for her like a broken child. She was so much more than he thought, all thanks to me.

The next court session goes as planned, and I walk from the Bailey a free man, the 'crime of the century' goes passed by my bribed jury, the puppets that worked so perfectly. If only I could get Lyra to obey as well as they did, but it was more complicated than just threatening a close member. I make my way to Baker Street and enter slowly. I first drop my letter through Lyras door, wait to hear her pick it up and then make my way upstairs, just as Sherlock plays his violin. I'd say Lyra had about ten minutes before me and Sherlock were done, if she wasn't ready I'd smash her head in, or maybe a redo of the last time I was here, that was fun.

"I…owe…you." Were the last words I spoke to him, after our little tea meeting and my tantalizing of him of the plans for his fall. I came downstairs to see her suitcase wasn't by the door as I asked. I curled my fists in anger and knocked on the door. I then opened the letterbox and put my mouth next to it.

"Lyra, open this door now." I say, and I see her sat across on her couch. I then get my gun and point at her through it. Surprisingly, she doesn't jump, she simply gets up and opens the door with a bored expression and lets me in.

"Innocent?" She asks.

"I'm a free man." I grin, but I sense her anger radiating towards me. She picks up my letter and holds it out to me.

"Where are we going, Jim?" She asked.

"I thought we could do with a break, we have both been in shackles the past month, Though we could still do that-"I replied, giving her a wink.

"You unimaginable bastard. Do you have any idea-"

"Yes I do. But that's not important. I need to disappear again-"I say, but she scoffs at me. 

"You like to disappear don't you?" she says, but stops as I grab her throat.

"Don't….interrupt me…again. This time, it's different. We both need to disappear, part of the plan." I say, before letting her go and she coughs, swallowing needed oxygen. "

She looks at me and I see tears are swimming in her eyes. " I can't do it Jim, I can't betray them."

I bend down so I'm right in her face. " Lyra, I'm not asking you to betray anyone. Come away with me, and then you can see what you want. I've got my suspicions you'll feel differently after." I hold my hand out to her and after a pause of hesitation, she takes it.

"Good, our flights in an hour." I smile, and kiss her lightly on the forehead.

I text Sebastian, ordering the jet to be ready as soon as possible, He didn't approve of this little getaway, but that didn't matter, I just needed to get Lyra back on my side.


	18. Chapter 18

Lyras POV

"Russia? We're going to fucking Russia?"

My mouth hangs open as I look at the screen above us in the private members lounge. Me and Jim were waiting to be let on to the plane and were stood side by side. I saw him grin from the corner of my eye.

"What were you thinking of? Ibiza?" He replied, teasing me. I roll my eyes, why the heck did I say yes to the man responsible for keeping me in a cell the past month.

"I'm guessing there's a reason for Moscow?" I enquire, just as the gates open, revealing a private jet waiting on the runway.

"Some assassins we need to see." He confessed as we stepped out into the frosty sunshine. I nodded and we walked up the stairs into the plane. Inside it was luxurious, cream leather and spacious. I almost pass the welcoming staff before I recognize the pilot, fancy cap and all.

"Sebastian, good to see you again so soon." I smile sarcastically. He tips his cap at me cheekily.

"You too, Lyra." He replies and then disappears into the cabin. I take my seat and Jim sits opposite me. Before long we're up in the air and I keep silent, enjoying the view of London, and quite frankly glad to be rid of it for a while.

I sense Jim watching me and I turn to look at him expectantly.

"You've changed since 6 months ago." He stated, not offering anything else.

"Absence and torture does that to a girl." I remark, raising my eyebrow at him.

"They told me you didn't cry once. Brave, I like that." He replied, his voice trailing off and I saw his mind was whirring. "So I guess we're even now, you have me tortured, I had you tortured."

"Not quite, I believe your last visit to my apartment means you should be expecting one more betrayal off me." I say bitterly. Taking me by surprise, Jim leans forward and takes me hands from my lap and kisses them, then looks up at me.

"I hope you won't."

Moscow was a real beauty once we got there, the drive to the hotel was enjoyable and I took the time to appreciate the authenticity of the city with so much history. We reached the hotel and Jim checked us in under his real name oddly, and we were shown into the grand penthouse. I set my stuff down and stand unaware in the middle of the room.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" I ask, looking up at the painted ceiling. Jim wanders over to the window and breathes onto it to create mist.

"Two blonde assassins we need to see today, they should be here soon, separately of course. You can interview them, I've got a list of questions, I and Seb have some other things to plan. " He said, before drawing a smiley face onto the misty glass and grins back at it.

"Just like old times." I murmur, and he turns around, his face suddenly serious as he makes his way over to me.

"Old times? You do remember your life is us, Lyra, not Sherlocks. You're with us. We own you, not them. "He says, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"I believe Mycroft ensured you didn't own me, you can't bribe me anymore Jim." I replied, steadying my breath as he towers over me.

"Oh no, I know I can't. But that doesn't mean you don't belong to me. You see, I know that without me, you're nothing." He snarls, his nostrils flaring and a vein straining on his forehead.

"Fuck you!" I shout. "I'm not something to own!" He steps back, considering his plan of action, but I don't stop there. "What are you going to do? Hit me? Rape me? Torture me? You've done it before, if you've done it once you can do it again! "But all he does is take another step back and looks me up in down. A glimmer of… appreciation showed in his eyes, or something else entirely. I see him go to say something in retaliation, and then bite his lip, the consulting criminal was speechless. He then turns and storms out the room.

"I'll come back at the end of the day." He stated, his tone dripping with restrained fury. The door shuts and I'm left on my own again. So much for a getaway. I barely have any time to prepare before the first assassin arrives, and I go through the questions on the sheet with her. I gathered Jim was moving her to Baker Street, and tried hard not to contain my worry, but she seemed to have no motive to kill him. The whole situation was foggy, Jim had promised her something…but she could tell even I didn't know the full situation. I dismissed her and waited for the next one. Soon enough, she arrived. She had short blonde hair, similar to the other one and a strong accent. I followed the same guideline but she stopped me halfway.

"Sorry, may I ask how you know Moriarty?" She said, her eyes evaluating me. I must have looked startled, taken off guard by the question.

"I guess you could say I was his apprentice." I reply, slightly amused. She laughs herself and shakes her head, I catch her murmuring "Poor, sweet girl." And almost have an outburst. What was it with everyone judging me just because I'm young, I am an adult! But by the end of the interview, she seemed to be fit for the job.

"Well that's all fitting; can I ask you a question now?" I say, leaning forward.

"Of course." She replies bluntly. I reach into my bag-knowing security would have taken her gun before coming in- and pass her my small handgun with a smile. She examines it from different angles.

"I want to see your shot." I say. She smiles and gets up as I follow. I pick up one of the swanky pillows and hold it above my head from across the room.

"Easy." She says and fires just above my head as I do a twirl, just to make things interesting. I admire the shot, perfect and precise. Plus Jim would have to pay for the damage, one up for me. I see her out with a smirk, knowing she was a good pick. I looked at her file I had been given, and noticed her initials on the top. ' A.G.R.A.'

The emptiness of the hotel room unnerved me, and I was now bored. I decided to have a shower, feeling groggy from the flight. I went in and stayed, simply thinking, as the hot water gushed over me. What did this mean, Jim suddenly dragging me back? Why did he need to see me now, take me away and put the plan in danger just for a little getaway to Moscow? I couldn't help but let my tears out, I had tried to stay so strong In front of him, but I knew he was going to break me.

Moriartys POV

I sat across from the blonde, chiselled looking business man in his modernist office. We had reached an agreement for his trained snipers to join Sebastian, who stood behind my chair taking guard.

"So, the hard bit is over with, how about we celebrate? My treat." He grinned and snapped his fingers, which I couldn't help but smirk at. Then out one of the doors into his office came four beautiful blonde women, all in fur and lingerie. Two began massaging me and one sat on my knee as the other couple concentrated on the Russian. I smiled at them, admiring the fullness of their breasts and their tan. I could sense Sebastian was uncomfortable as I heard him shifting his feet from side to side behind me.

"Come with me, Mr. Moriarty, us Russians can show you a good time." He got up, and was lead by the women back through the door where they came out of. The two blondes practically danced around me and started to lead me, but Seb grabbed my shoulder and drew me in close.

" Lyra's waiting in the apartment and I can't go back for her." He said, giving me a patronizing stare that I hated.

"She can wait all day for being an ignorant bitch, I'm not her babysitter." I replied and turned my back on him, ready to forget her for at least a few hours. We entered a private bar, with mist everywhere and big, over the top displays of the finest vodka. Me, the Russian and his whore's were sat down in a private booth and soon I was necking down shots, as embarrassing as it was. The music got louder and I could see my Russian business partner thinking he had me right where he wanted, happy and in his grasp for power. The sultry blonde turned to me.

"Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?" She drawled, and I nodded darkly. She took me into a secluded spot, equipped with a bed and fancy crystal dotted around. Although I felt as though I should have been enjoying myself, I wasn't. She was dirty, and not in the good way, she was doing this for money, not for herself. She had no interest in power, though she had the sculpted figure of a woman, she wasn't one at all. She sat me down on the edge of the bed and started to strip before me, revealing her large breasts and tanned, flawless skin. But I couldn't get the image out of me head of pale, freckled and petite wonders. I shook my head, no, I was here, not with her. She then sat on my lap and started to kiss my neck, trying to get my attention. But soon I felt disgusted and threw her off me, getting out the room as fast as I could.

I walked through the centre of Moscow in a daze, still drunk and not fully understanding why I left, or where I was going. I had left Lyra a good 12 hours, and I looked up at the hotel, searching for our window. I then saw her, stood right by the window, phone in hand but not speaking. She looked still- empty. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket – she was calling me. I stood in the darkness of the street, looking up and waiting for it to go to voicemail. But I saw her hang up rather than leave a message, and then she dialled again and held the phone to her ear. But this time my phone wasn't ringing, so who was she going for? I immediately dialled Sebastian and he answered on the first ring, so Lyra wasn't ringing him.

" Seb- connect my phone to Lyra's connection." I demanded, and soon I was on her line. I could hear her breathing down the phone, and my jaw tightened as I waited for whoever she was calling to answer. And then his voice came down the phone.

" Effy?"

I watched Lyra sigh in relief, at HIS voice. She had called Sherlock, what the hell was she doing?

"Sherlock, I need your help."

"Aren't you on holiday?"

"Yes, well, no. I think I'm in trouble, I need to get back, and I erm, can't…my visa it's not working and I'm stuck, someone needs to fly over here to get me and bring me back." I heard her lie through her teeth, and watched from below as she held her hand against the glass, staring out at the city. I could barely contain myself; she had ran to him, just because I wasn't there. I then realised I had to act quickly and hung up, them never knowing I could hear them. If I didn't do the right thing now- I would lose her.

I reached the door, unlocked it and pushed it open slowly, so the creak would alert her I was there. She hadn't moved from the window, but still had the phone in her hand, which was shaking. I then saw her eyes dart to me in fear- they were bloodshot, she had been at it again with the crying. She stood there in her slouchy clothes, and hung up the phone quickly. I made my way over to her, and reached to wipe her tears away. She simply stood and let me, and then I wrapped my arms around her and we simply stood like that for a while, with her occasional sob and me stroking her hair.

"You know." She cried out.

"Yes…" I murmur in reply, my mind was too foggy to register what to do.

" It's coming back Jim, my disorder, and I don't know if I can feel anything, I'm scared of going back to it, I'm so scared of losing myself all over again." She blubbered out. I then picked her up fully and carried her into the bathroom and set her down on the toilet seat. I put the taps of the bath on and poured the lotions in it, watching the foam form gradually. I had been made speechless, and I had to help her in order to stop her from running to Sherlock. Once the bath was ready, I touched the hem of her top, looking at her to ask for her permission. She nodded and I pulled it over her head, and then she took off her underwear. I put her in the bath and took my shirt off so it didn't get wet. Once she had calmed her breathing I started to wash her hair, sitting on the edge of the bath.

" Why did you call him?" I ask, breaking the silence.

She stiffened, and then rubbed water in her eyes before replying. "You wouldn't answer your phone, you were gone for so long, and I don't even know where."

I watched her, so confused by her behaviour. She wanted to be strong, but there was something so unstable about her.

"I told you, I had some things to take care of. "

She was silent for a while, as I ran the hot water over her, running my hands through her hair. Then she spoke, and everything became clear to me.

"You can't do this, Jim. You made me think you cared, and then you left me. Your idea of a return was raping me and then having me tortured, when all I wanted was protection. You think you can control me, but you have no idea of the damage done before you. I don't know if you already found this out somehow- but I killed my own parents before I met you. Because I was so similar, so bored, so grounded by them. I just want my freedom, and I thought you could give me that, but all you did was try to make me your own. Just tell me now, what is going to happen."

The speech stunned me, she had finally told me everything. But I knew this night was vital for her trust, to keep her on the right side, to keep her with me.

"I'm going to be gone for another month or so, that's why I wanted this time together. I can't tell you where because, you're too close with him. And then I'll return Lyra, with another identity, and you have to swear not to say a word… whatever happens. "  
>"Why should I?" She spat, I could feel her skin heating up. I didn't reply just then, I reached for a towel and emptied the bath, wrapping the linen around her before carrying her into the bedroom and setting her down on the bed. I put her in silk short nightie packed for her and as I slid it over her she looked up at me, and I knew she wasn't going to wait for this answer. I sighed and knelt in front of her and took her hands in mine.<p>

"You need to do it because if you're Sherlocks real fried, I'll have to burn you. And that would, quite frankly, burn my heart, rather than his." I stared at her as her eyes searched me, looking for the lie, for the underlying plan, but there wasn't one, and she recognized that. She leaned forward and kissed me bravely, not holding back. She then drew back, and got into bed, leaving me kneeling next to her.

"Don't leave me again, please." She simply said, and my chest ached as I thought about what was to come, how I was going to have to go and live with that awful Kitty Riley and become Richard Brooke. And she couldn't know. We would leave back for London tomorrow with the assasins, and all would eventually take its place. I knew then I didn't want to hurt her. But once Sherlock was gone, it would leave me with the question. Would I have anything to live for after him? Or would I go against my plan for her… and stay.

SHERLOCKS POV

I put my phone down, deciding Effy would survive till the morning. I looked across at the client in front of me as John sat by the desk. I had predicted this case to be boring, teenage boy, probably something to do with some American conspiracy, he had contacted me before. But no…

"So let me conclude, you are currently on the run from a pretend witness protection, which you were put under as you're supposed to be dead. And you've let her see you, but you still can't get to her. Your 'assassin' pretended to beat you up for 'sentimental' reasons towards the real victim. All I need to know now, who is this Lyra, Dom?"


	19. Chapter 19

I sat on the bed with my suitcase by my feet, the last morning of the holiday. Jim was shaving in the bathroom and the blues were starting to set in. Though not exactly an orthodox holiday, we had been here a week and it had been pure bliss with us finally admitting to each other the truth behind the game. I had rang Sherlock after me and Jim slept together that night, telling him I was fine. But his reply sounded…odd. Jim came out in his Westwood suit, back to the consulting criminal.

"Ready to go?" He asked, grinning at me, but in a not so sinister way.

"No…" I murmur, looking around at the splendid hotel room, not wanting to go back to the dusty 221C basement. He approached me and lifted my head up, making me look deep into his chocolate eyes.

"I won't be long back this time, I swear. Give me time." He said, and I knew he meant it. I smiled and he pecked me on the forehead. Soon we were on the plane, and then touching down in London. I looked out at the grizzly weather that dampened my spirits, as well as the runway. We were driven by a silent Sebastian back to Baker Street. I gave my last look at Jim- not knowing when would be the next time we'd meet.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"Me too." I replied, feeling pitiful sorrow for the both of us. If things weren't so messed up, if he and I weren't so damaged, our lives could have turned out differently. We kissed once again, and then again, searching each other's lips for some sort of answer. Sebastian carried my heavy suitcase up to my door, and waited as I jangled the keys into the lock, praying Mrs Hudson was at bingo.

"Ready for some more calm time ey Lyra?" Sebastian broke the silence, looking at me in hope, perhaps for a restored friendship.

"Dreading it." I smirked at him, and he subtly sighed in relief. We hadn't lost our connection through it all. He put an arm around me and drew me close in a bear-like hug only he could manage, and soon he was gone and then so was the car. I got my keys out and opened the door- to find Sherlock rummaging through my stuff frantically.

"Sherlock what the hell!" I shouted, and he whipped around, papers in his hands. He got up and straightened his jacket, walking over to me. He examined me and without explaining himself, he asks with a cock of the head.

"Nice holiday?"

I give him my favourite death-stare, when really I was terrified. What had he found out in the week I had left?

"No tan, probably due to the fact you chose your destination as Moscow, bit unorthodox."

"How do you know-"I start.

"Label on your suitcase. So, what sparked your interest in Moscow, Effy? Or was it someone elses?" He replied, taking another step towards me.

"Oh shut up Sherlock, we've been through this. You know Moriarty knows me, you came in whilst I was sleeping remember, terrified of that. I have no better clue than you what he has planned, okay?" I retort, tired of all the deceit. Sherlock was too smart and I couldn't underestimate him.

" Effy, that man had you tortured, I'm struggling to understand why you would- oh…" Sherlock paused, taking his hands away from his head slowly. He then stood back, looking at me as if in a new light.

"What?" I say, waiting for his deduction.

"You won't let him go, its sentiment. Of all the people, you surrendered to it yourself, and you're only a girl. I thought we were potential equals." He says slowly as my face reddens, humiliation washing over me. Suddenly he leaves through the front door, probably needed to be on his own to get to his precious mind palace. I sit down and I realize I already miss Russia, where things were a little more simple.

About a week later, I heard from Sebastian by text.

"Meet me at your college, sports hall."

I frowned, what the hell was he doing there? For a moment, I really didn't wish to return there on a dark, Saturday night. Too many memories of my life before all this, could mess my head up a bit.

"Please." Was the following text, pushing me to getting there by taxi. I pushed the swing doors open into the hall, which was almost completely dark.

"Seb?" I called out. The lights then switched on one by one and in the middle of the floor was Sebastian, tied up to a chair with his mouth taped, bombs strapped to his chest. Just like John at the pool. I stood still, looking around for whoever had done this, who was good enough to catch the best sniper?

"Who are you?" I shouted out, turning around. Then, the doors at the other end opened, and an impossible sight walked out. His face was like I'd never seen it, sullen, as if he had been through a thousand wars since that night at his house, since his apparent death.

" Dom…" I choked, unable to believe it, my suspicions were true.

He didn't smile at me. " Lyra." He stated, the distance between us was so wide and Sebastian was the only obstacle. Then, from behind me, Sherlock walked through the door, followed by Watson.

" Sherlock-" I start, unable to comprehend the situation.

" Well, your best friends returned from the dead, better go hug him, Lyra." His voice was sneering, boastful of his discovery. I turn from him and practically run towards Dom, and without thinking embrace him, wrapping my arms around his neck. At first he doesn't hug me back, but he breathes out and puts his arms around me, putting his face in my hair. I then turn to Seb, who was watching us both.

"How could you-" I go to say, before I see Sherlock roll his eyes at me and rip the tape off Sebastians mouth.

"Might help." He commented sarcastically. I look at Sebastian for an explanation.

"I knew he was your only friend, at the time." Sebastian whispered.

"You watched me cry, and cry. You watched me go through even worse treatment when I thought my best friend was dead and you didn't tell me you hadn't killed him."

"I couldn't, he had to be put under protection, he had to stay away from you. But he managed to contact Sherlock- breaking our agreement." He replied, each word looking as though a stab to his stomach.

I look at Dom, still searching for an answer. He looks at me sympathetically.

"I tried to see you- you saw me, taking photos. I needed to see you- I mean, but I couldn't. I found Sherlock and he got me out of that evil man's surveillance, then when I described you, he found out. What were you doing living so close to him?" He asked, and I could hardly answer any of it.

"Does Moriarty know?" I ask, turning back to Sebastian. He simply shakes his head, and I understand he did this for me, not him, for once.

"So, Lyra, now that we have returned your friend, how about you return the favour, by confirming you will choose a side before he returns?"

"But…he didn't know, you can't make me choose…"

Watson then steps forward, and I see the rage in his eyes, so Sherlock had obviously told him everything.

" Eff-Lyra, when the time comes okay, when Moriarty 'burns' Sherlock, we need to know which side you are on. We won't speak of it till then, just know, the choice is going to be made." He says, looking right into me. Sebastian then coughs.

"Bomb strapped to the chest here." He says.

Sherlock gets out a remote and clicks it and the lights turn off the bomb. "There we go, just added that for a touch of drama." He adds.

"Course you did." I hear John comment under his breath. I look to Dom, still so confused by it all, but so glad to have him back. It was strange- adjusting to someone practically coming back from the dead. Sherlock unstraps Sebastian who flexes his muscles- earning another eye roll from Sherlock. We go outside into the still summer night, standing in an odd formation.

" So why here Sherlock?" I ask him as he stands beside me.

"Wanted to see the life of Lyra, before she became Moriartys monster."

"Is that what you think of me?" I smirk.

"No, that's for you to decide when the time comes." He replies. John hails a taxi and Sebastian gets in it, I see his nose turning at the change from the posh black cars of Jims.

"So what happens now?" John asks to me, Sherlock and Dom.

"Now we wait." Dom replies and we all mutually understand it was all we could do.

We get back to Baker street and Dom waits by the door as Sherlock and John head upstairs.

" Do you have anywhere to stay?" I ask him, the tension between us still there.

" Well, I'm both on the run from Moriarty and the law." He replies, breaking the ice a bit more.

I say through a smile. "And I'm a member of both, come on in." I open the door for us both and the apartment instantly feels less lonely, less of an island of isolation.

"Will Sebastian tell him…?" Dom says, starting to set up a bed on the couch.

"No, Dom. Then Jim would find out he let you survive. "I reply, then pause, realizing my luck. " I'm glad he did, now stop pretending to set up bed in here, you can sleep in my bed." 

"Won't end up like last time?" He grins; he had already gotten over it, odd.

We get into bed and Dom keeps his space, the bond between us still strained. And for the next two months he stays there, living with me just like them weekends when his parents went away chilling out, being dull but warming. The days came and went, and soon, Scotland Yard invaded our short escape from all the drama.

"Sherlock! Where are you?" I hear Detective Inspector Lestrade shout, going up the stairs. I peer through the door to listen, and gather there had been a kidnapping, but something in my gut told me this wasn't an ordinary case. I then heard them going back downstairs, shutting the door before they can spot me. I set about making pancakes for me and Dom, just as I'm plating them up he walks through sleepily in his sweats.

"Oh yes, this is why you're great." He exclaims, taking his seat at the kitchen table. "Was that the police outside?"

I continue to look out the window, though they were long gone. "Yeah…it was. Don't worry."

"You're telling me? You look like you've seen a ghost. What is it?"

I turn away, smiling at my best friend. "Nothing, just a weird feeling about whatever case they're on. How are they?" I ask, pointing towards the pancakes.

"Delicious" He smirks and shoves them in his mouth.

"Dom…" I start, sitting on the chair opposite him and he looks up, gesturing with his fork for me to say what I have to say. " These past few months have been great, but you know, this isn't what my life is anymore, it's not all pancakes and parties anymore. "

He pauses, gulping down the food hastily. "I know… I've been through it too Lyra, for you. That Sebastian was good to not kill me, it looks like you're just a magnet to these men, in a friendly or non-friendly way… no change really I suppose."

"Maybe…" I murmur, afraid of where he was going.

"Why do you like him?" He pipes up, looking straight at me, I knew he was talking about Jim.

"He just… gets me."

"Oh what, and I don't?" He retorts.

" Look, I know it's fucked up, but that's just me." I reply, trying hard not to think about Jim, it had been so long and he promised me it wouldn't be.

"But you know I love you." He states like a line of prose.

"It's just a crush, you prick." I try to laugh it off, but he just shakes his head at me.

" Maybe, but I know you're what matters most to me Lyra, if the day comes where your life is in danger, it's going to be me saving you, not this criminal."

His words hit me like knives and I shove my plate away from me, my appetite gone.

"I'm sorry-"He starts, but I just walk into my bedroom and slam the door behind me, not in the mood at all. I change my mind's course to Scotland Yard. I had a gut feeling there was something off, something not quite right. I spent the day in my room, in front of my paper map. It included all the details, my attempt at foreshadowing what was going to happen and how I could act. How I could possibly choose a side.

Dom's voice called out for the first time in hours. " Lyra! Sherlock's back."

I get up and without looking at Dom, run upstairs to the boy's flat. I open the door to find Sherlock, John and then Lestrade. As soon as I see the Inspector I only peer down the hall, seeing the situation through the open door.

" Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Oh Moriarty is smart." My heart quickens, I knew I was right, there was something strange. He was back. I then remembered from the plan I was given my Sebastian, the quote exactly.

" Sherlock's reputation will be buried."

This was how it started; he had somehow been framed for a crime. I then listened as Sherlock continued.

"He planted that doubt in their head, that little nagging sensation you're going to have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea can you… not once it's made a home there.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked him bluntly.

" He wants to destroy me, inch by inch. It is a game Lestrade and not one I am willing to play. Give my regards to Sargent Donavon."

Lestrade sighs and then exits the room, only giving me a moment to creep back down and wait for him to leave. I then signal Dom and we both go back up to the distressed pair.

Sherlock looks up when he hears us enter the room.

" Lyra, you know. It's time for you to choose, there is no waiting left. You've had your rest, we need to figure out what to do, or you need to leave."

"And if I haven't been told what's going on?" I reply.

"I know you haven't been told but you were listening, I saw you." He scoffed, sitting on edge in front of his laptop.

"Hang on, Moriarty, he's back?" Dom asked, looking around at all of us.

"Yes now shut up, we don't have much time before Scotland Yard come back with a warrant for my arrest now we need to think." Sherlock said, waving Dom off rudely. " Lyra, you and Dom need to pack your bags, the essentials only, just in case. You two in the picture will only complicate matters. "

"And Moriarty, what if she asks her to do something for him?" John intervenes, and I catch him giving me a look of distrust. Sherlock turns to me, and I saw he looked vulnerable and scared of what was coming.

"Like we've been saying, she will choose. The point is to not make you a necessary tool against him, it'd be too dangerous, so you need to be gone. If you have already chosen, you'll obey the commands I send you by text. If not, have a good time as the runaway couple."

Before I can respond, we all hear the police outside.

"Go, you two." John says to us, and we quickly run back downstairs and start shoving things in our backpacks without a word. Outside our door I can hear the police arresting Sherlock. I peer out the curtains and see him held in cufflinks against the car, and then John is thrust next to him, what had he done? I then suppress a smirk as I see a bleeding police man's nose, John must have lost his temper. I then freeze as the whole scene turns around, Sherlock shoots a gun and all the force are on their knees. For a moment I admire his undermining of them, clever man. Sherlock and John then run round the corner, and the police soon follow.

" Lyra? Now it's our turn." Dom breathes, ready by the door. I grab his hand and we run out, prepared to face whatever was threatening the both of us.

Moriartys POV

I stand in front of the coffee jar's in Tesco's, waiting for him to speak as he stood behind me, pretending to look at the range of magazines.

"Where is she?" I murmur, knowing we couldn't be seen to be talking, me in my best Richard Brooke disguise.

"She's not with him." Sebastian simply replies, disguised as a normal civilian, just like me. I furrow my brows, why was he being so vague, he should know exactly where she was, and who she was with.

"I have to get back. See you later." I say through my teeth discretely. I then pay for the groceries and make my way back to Kitty's flat. I get to the flat door and see signs of a break in – they were here. I change my look of boredom to one of the innocent naivety of Richard Brooke, the actor.

"They didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal…" I say as I enter to Sherlock, Kitty and Watson. I put on my best shocked face, mirroring that of Sherlocks. I back up against the wall, holding a weak hand up in defence.

"You said they wouldn't find me here, you said that I was safe here."

The reporter I had been living with for these past months replied. "You are safe Richard I'm a witness, they wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses."

Kitty went on to explain how Moriarty never existed; I was a mere creation of Sherlocks to get attention. She showed Watson my created portfolio, and I explained how I was a presenter on a children's TV show, it was all rather entertaining. I put my face in my hands, just as the others aren't looking and give a discrete, gloatful stare at Sherlock, who looks at me back in apprehension. I then see him take his phone out and text someone.

A few moments later, she burst through the door, and I almost completely lose it at what I see next. A boy I ordered dead- THE boy- alive as anything, holding her hand. I have to fight to contain Moriarty, to sustain Richard Brooke in front of Kitty. I watch Lyra look at Kitty, then to me, and then see's me looking at her holding the boys hand. I feel Sherlock's proudness of making the situation even more confusing, getting me back. I had to get out soon and find out what she was doing.

"Who's this?" Kitty exclaimed.

"Back up." Sherlock muttered and advanced towards me and I pretended to cower back, my legs buckling on the stairs.

"No, don't you touch me! " I shout, waving my hands.

"Stop it! Stop it!" His rage breaks through, and I see the anger practically burning him, the fear. One last look at Lyra and I run for it, out the bathroom window, hoping to find her and maybe kill the boy myself. I drop outside and it's not Sebastian waiting for me, it was A.G.R.A, the blonde sniper. She drives off with me in the back.  
>"Look for Lyra, you've met her in Russia." I order her and she steps on it. I put my hands in my heads as I realise why my driver wasn't Sebastian. He was supposed to kill the boy, this was his doing, and now she had returned to him. We scower London, but they were nowhere to be seen. None of my men could find her and I almost stab my sniper in frustration. Something was wrong- a part of the plan was not in my grasp. I then get a text from Sebastian.<p>

" Molly Hooper's Apartment."

I arrive outside the flat's I used to have to visit when pretending to date this girl, and find Sebastian looking through a window on the first floor.

"Doesn't this feel a little amateur?" I call out; we did practically look like perverts. I then reach the window, standing by his side and see what he wanted me to see, Lyra and Dom.

"So, he's alive." I murmur, though he knew I already knew.

"I'm sorry." He choked and I look back in astonishment, he was actually cracking. " I thought she'd need him in the future."

"Well apparently she does." I say, unable to tear my eyes from her, in his arms, lying together in bed.

"She loves you, Jim." Sebastian tries to convince me, but I simply turn and walk away.

"You won't kill him?" Sebastian inquires, calling after me.

I turn around, not hiding the sadness consuming me from my best friend. "No, because he loves and deserves her. And she loves him too." I realize, and walk away beaten, destroyed by my own sentiment for my beautiful monster.

She was not something to own, I could never have her. She would always- always destroy everything she touches. Every man had sacrificed for her, Sebastian his job, Sherlock his pride, John his trust, and me, my black heart. I returned to my townhouse, and didn't sleep at all, knowing eternal rest was waiting for me tomorrow, the day I could escape her, escape failure, and finish Sherlock Holmes.


	20. Chapter 20

Lyras POV

I woke up at the noise of keys jangling in the door, and quickly straggled out of Dom's protective arms, picking up my gun. I walked slowly out the door in the dark, into the hallway. The lights were then switched on and I saw Molly standing in her doorway, looking at me, shocked. I then realized I was holding my friend at gunpoint, and hastily dropped the gun.

"So it is true." She smiled, but there was a look of sadness in her eyes.

"What is?" I ask her as she puts her bags down, just back from work in the middle of the night. She goes to sit on the couch and gestures for me to sit next to her and I do.

" Effy wasn't real, was she? My best friend." She said, looking into me bravely. I realize she must have been with Sherlock, so he was at Barts.

"What has he told you?" I ask, cupping her hands in mine.

"Everything, I feel so silly, the first time we met, you were with him. And he was, pretending to like me to get to Sherlock, when it was you two all along." Tears form in her eyes and she quickly goes to dry them with her sleeve, but I do it myself.

"I'm sorry for lying to you Molly, but you're still my best friend. You let me and Dom stay here without any questions about what was going on."

"Just after you called asking, Sherlock told me. You're still my best friend too, Lyra, just don't lie to me again, please." She coughs, emotion getting the better of her. I then see something else was wrong, it wasn't just my lies, it was something about her.

"What else is there, Molly?"

She looks up at me. "I need to take you back to Barts in the morning, Sherlock needs me."

"Why?" I ask, frowning at her.

"He's figured it all out, what's going to happen. And if his theories are true, we need to help him fake his death."

My mouth drops open. "And finish Jim's story, bury him as well as his reputation."

She nods, suppressing hiccups from her tears. I then wrapped my arms around her and held her, knowing the next hours would be the most important so far. I let myself cry then, knowing I could never betray the good friends I had. But Jim, I couldn't turn away like that. If his plan was going to be foiled by Sherlock faking his death, then what was he going to live for. I couldn't say goodbye.

"John can't know, or Dom." Molly said, the words muffled by her head resting on my shoulder. I simply pat her on the back to register I knew. It wasn't just my heart that was going to break today, John's would also.

When the sun rose, me, Dom and Molly made our way to St. Barts Hospital. I thought of the last time I was here, when I only had Jim and Sebastian, if only things had stayed so simple. Molly and Dom go to the canteen to get coffee for us all, and as I'm making my way to the lab, I meet him. He stands on the other end of the corridor to me, completely still.

"Sherlock." I say, my voice wavering.

"You can't tell anyone." He simply says.

"Can't I stop him from trying?" I ask, and he frowns at me.

"You think you're capable of making this man stop?"

I look down. "No, I just wish I was."

He then continues towards me, but just as he brushes past me he says.  
>"Try, for me." He then continues to walk in the opposite direction from me, and as I turn to see him go he looks back, flipping the collar of his coat up. The stare was penetrable- telling me a hundred things, but I knew what I had to do. I lock myself in a supply closet and hold my phone ready, calling Jim, wherever Sherlock was about to meet him.<p>

After a few rings, he answers.

"Jim- please, I know Sherlock is on his way but please tell me what's going to happen now." I hurry the first words I had spoken to him in months.

He replies after a pause in a long drawl. "I knew you wouldn't see this through- I knew you'd play chicken."

"Jim, please, don't do this now. For me, please, if you love me-"

"Love you?" I hear him scoff, making my heart drop, but he continues. "How can I love a scared little girl when I have bigger fish to fry. "

My head turns numb as I try to make sense of him. "Jim you made me think- In Russia, you told me you would return for me."

"Well now you have what you want Lyra, you have Dom. And I couldn't be happier for the pair of you- I couldn't. And if this is as happy as life gets, I think I'm finished, think I've had my play. Goodbye Lyra, I hope your love for Dom lasts."

"No Jim- I don't love him, Jim I love you! Please!" I scream in anguish, but when I cover my mouth to disguise the uncontrollable sobs I hear he has hung up. I ring again, but he doesn't pick up, it just keeps ringing. I'm then directed to voicemail- and I know wherever he was, Sherlock was with him. I was going to lose him, I had lost, and everything was lost.

Moriarty POV

I cease the BeeGees after quoting them to Sherlock, who had just arrived on the roof. I grimace as I think of her- she was with him, I saw them arrive with Molly Hooper. Together, if that's how she wanted it to be, then they can live their life together without me.

"It's just…staying." I say, motioning with my hand to him, the pettiness of living. What was it for? I put my head in my hand and crouch, the pain becoming physical. But I had to focus.

"All my life I've been searching for a distraction and you were the best distraction and now I don't even have you, cos I've beaten you. And you know what; in the end it was easy." I close my eyes, shaking, but my eyelids only flashed images of her. It was so easy- she was so simple, staying with comfort, staying with the boy, with the angels. "It was easy." I repeat. "Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people, and turns out you're ordinary just like all of them."

I put my face in my hands again, but again, images of her. I claw my face with my fingers, trying to scratch her out.

"Oh well." I chime, standing up and circling the silent Sherlock. " Did you almost start to wonder If I was real… did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brooke." Sherlock states, finally speaking.

We then did our dance- deducing my plan for his fall piece by piece. He fell for my digit code, thinking he was the genius here, on this roof. But of course, I proved him wrong.

"There is no key, doofus!" I shout at him, and then continue to mock him, telling him I was disappointed in him, his baffled manner amusing me slightly.

"Oh of course…Lyra." He then whispers and I whip around.

" What?" I practically hiss at him.

"Oh nothing, but I just know she's called you. She's the director here isn't she, and you're going to act because of her." 

"This is how I wanted it to happen, this tall building, nice spot." I say, trying to get back to the game, my game, not Lyra's.

"Do what?" He splutters, apparently so easily distracted. "Yes of course." He says as he realizes " My suicide."

Sherlocks POV

I dial her number, holding my phone in my sleeve, careful to keep it discrete. I can only guess she has picked up and is listening to the conversation, this was for her.

"Genius detective proved to be a fraud; I read it in the paper so It must be true. I love newspapers, fairy tales." He muses, and then we both look down onto the street of people. "And pretty grim ones too." He adds.

" I can still prove you created a completely false identity." I tell him.

"Oh just kill yourself it's a lost less effort." He whines, and I see the man was truly broken. Broken by the girl listening to this down the phone without him knowing. I began to think If I was going to be able to stop him, for her, for me.

"Go on, for me." He says. " Pleaaaaase." I then snap and grab him by the collar and hold him over the edge of the building. I then noticed she was on the street, looking up. She had confirmed my clues where we were. I then saw out the corner of my eye Sebastian, her 'friend' and Moriartys right hand man run up to her.

I turn back to Moriarty. "You're insane." I tell him.

"You're just getting that now?" He replies cockily and only woops when I lean him over the edge. "Okay, let me give you an extra incentive, your friends will die if you don't." He continues.

"John." I murmur.

"Not just John, everyone." He gloats.

"Lyra?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"She'll be getting her own nasty fate- an ordinary life with an ordinary boy." He says, but I see through the lines, I see his disillusion of the two best friends was pushing him over the edge itself. He then told me it would be Mrs Hudson and Lestrade as well.

"Three bullets, three gunmen, three victims." He breathes. " There's no stopping them now, unless my people see you jump."

Lyras POV

As I'm holding the phone to my ear, I'm grabbed on the shoulder. I panic and then see who it was, Sebastian. His look told me how much time we had.

"Come on." He says and grabs my hand, and we sprint back into the hospital. Just before the rooftop is out of my sight, I see Moriarty glance down and look right at me, then he simply looks away as if he hadn't seen. I hold the phone to my ear as we run, struggling to keep up.

The next thing I hear is Sherlock, laughing?! I almost stop, wondering what he could possibly be laughing at. I then hear Jim shout. "What! What is it? What did I miss?!

"You're not going to do it. So there's a recall code, I don't have to die, if I've got you.

"Oh, you think you can make me do that?"

"Yes, so do you."

"Sherlock your brother and all the kings' horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"But I know who can, and she's listening to all this right now. Lyra, the girl you love."

"Oh Sherlock- you poor thing. You're sentimental."

"I am you, prepared to do anything, prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. "

"You're saying we're alike, with Lyra?" I hear Jim reply.

"We both want to save her. That's the point." Sherlock says.

"No, you're both ordinary, you're both on the side of the angels."

"Oh I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second I am one. You may want to do the same with Lyra, after all, you made her you."

"No…you're not. I see, you're both not ordinary. No, you're me. She's me, you see? I won, she is me, and my creation becomes me, just as it was supposed to be." He makes it into a rhyme. I look up from the phone for a second as Sebastian stops and frantically presses the lift button. The doors open and we leap inside, pressing the top floor. The noise from the phone can now be heard by both of us, and as we listen for him to speak, I hold onto his hand.

"Thank you. Bless you." We hang onto each of his words, holding it together with all we had. Not knowing what was going to happen. "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends." It then all came into place, in both of our heads. Those words, he was going to take his own life, he wouldn't live for me because he doesn't think I'm living for him. No, he had it all wrong. And the next words brought us to our knees.

"Well good luck with that."

The noise of a gunshot sounds through the other line and I drop the phone and collapse on the elevator floor. As though my own heart broke the electricity in the building with the pain, the elevator halted and we were stuck. Sebastian shouted garbled words, his name, banging against the door. I heave myself off the floor and grab the lift emergency phone.

"We're stuck, please, come and get us." I cough, and then let go of the phone, letting it hang loosely on its chain. I shrink into the corner and watch as Sebastian takes out his rage on the door. He eventually gives up and I hold him, and we just lie there, waiting for someone to come. Waiting for him to come back, my heart hoping Sherlock really was him, so that he'd d the same and for it all to have been fake. But I knew this was me, and I could sense Sebastian hated me for it, though we loved one another as friends, I had killed Jim. I had made him think I loved Dom without even realizing, and gave him the final push to ending his life. He thought he had no one but Sherlock, but if only he knew, if only the genius criminal knew.

The rescue team come and we're heaved out the elevator shaft, and they put blankets on me. I see a body wheeled across me, and at first my knees almost buckle thinking they had already got to Jim. But it was Sherlock, laid out on a stretcher, his dead disguise so believable, but it burned a fire in me. I wanted to shake him, make him wake up and lose the pretence. Blame him, blame it on him and ask why it was him that wasn't really dead. Dom then appears at the other end- with Molly. Dom believed Sherlock and Jim to be dead- Molly only knew Moriarty to be dead. I then turn around and he was gone, Sebastian had walked away without saying goodbye. And as Molly and Dom approached me, I sensed I had lost him forever, and these two were all I had.

And then, I watched as their forms transfigured. They were the shadows, they were death. The devils closed in on me and I screamed and kicked them away- unwilling to be dragged down, I wouldn't go. My mind led down a screen from sense and I was in the world of depression, of before Jim. Jim never happened, all the work, all his medicine, all of it gone. They clawed it off me, my shields, greedily taking it for their own.

"Lyra! Please listen to us!" I hear the devil say, it's rotten, sharp yellow teeth mimicking the voice of Molly and Dom. But they were in the real world, and I was back in my world, my cell.

I woke up in a plain room, out of the hell. I look down at myself and see I've been dressed in yellow pyjamas made out of cheap, NHS material. To my side, I see bottles of pills on the table, lined up, waiting for me. They thought they were the cure, they had no clue. A nurse then walks in my room.

"Oh, you're awake. I'll go tell your friend, he's been waiting for you." I expect Dom, but John walks through and takes the seat next to my bed.

"Feeling better?" He asks, and I could see the torture in his eyes, as though mirrored in mine.

"What happened?" I reply back.

" Sherlock-"

"He's dead?" I ask my voice below quiet. John nods and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. I wanted to tell him so badly; I was going through the exact same unbearable pain of loss- for someone actually dead. But I kept my word.

"I'm going to move out of Baker Street. With him and you gone, I couldn't." He says, looking at his feet.

"How long are they going to have me in care for?" I ask, and then the nurse in the corner arranging my towels speaks up.

"You've been admitted for at least a year, Miss Harley, your medical history justifies it."

I smile at her, knowing she was here to look after me, but they were all so foolish. This wasn't how they should treat me, but at least I get a cell to keep me in when I turn at night- when my mind returns to that hell. But maybe- I will see Jim in my dreams, of all people, he would be in hell.

John then stands up and holds out a hand formally. "Goodbye Lyra, might I say, you're the bravest woman I have ever met, I hope you beat this de-personalization soon, you should be proud to be who you are." He says, and shakes my hand before leaving. I watch as he disappears down the hallway. Everyone that had been in my life these past years was gone- Sherlock, John, Jim, Sebastian,Irene. It was as though none of this ever happened.

With that thought, I closed my eyes and swallowed the pills. Then, as the settler's kicked in, I thought of what John had said. I was the woman of all these men, and if I saw it a certain way, I had beaten them out, and so I smiled, depression was to come, but in that moment, this was me happy.

_Okay so thank you for reading if you're still putting up with my hasty writing! I'm afraid I won't be updating till June as I have exams. I have made a trailer for what's coming so I hope you enjoy that, the link is just below and please review the story, I really like hearing from you all! _

watch?v=I4VYppEByDI&feature=


	21. Chapter 21

Lyras POV

1 and half years later.

"No!" I scream, jolting up in the cream bed. A hand grabs mine.

" Lyra. We're here." Dom's voice makes the screams in my head disperse. I open my eyes and catch my breath, seeing he wasn't alone. A ginger girl with curly hair wearing bright colours sat next to him.

"Oh, hello." I murmured, assessing her expression, she was scared of me.

" Lyra, this is my new girlfriend, Lucy. We met at the open day." Dom gabbled, trying to figure out how I would react. We both knew this time was coming to an end- he wouldn't be by my side much longer, he had to get on with his life, go to university and all that I'd never have.

"I'm glad to finally meet you." Lucy said, her eyes wavering over me, scared of this 'nutty' friend of Dom's I was. Her eyes then quickly move to my hands- and Dom is quick to let go.

"Likewise. So, when do you go?" I reply, turning my head back to Dom, who is still watching me like a ticking bomb.

"Well- that's what I'm here for, I'm leaving. I know it's come round so fast, but the semester starts this week. I'll be getting the train down-"He babbles.

"It's fine, Dom. You've been watching over me long enough. Thank you." I say, looking right into his eyes. Lucy must sense an emotional goodbye in the wake and excuses herself to the loo, leaving me and Dom alone.

"You'll be okay? Don't try to break out of this place or anything-"Dom starts.

"You know me well- I'm fine, I'm better now." I try to keep my calm, when really inside I was breaking, Dom was my only reminder all of it ever happened, everyone else had gone, and now he was leaving too.

"Goodbye Lyra." Dom reaches over and hugs me, and I hold him as tightly as I can. I let go- sobbing into his shoulder. "Hey- don't do that Lyra. Come on." He murmurs into my hair.

"I don't want to be on my own anymore." I moan, my voice wavering. He pulls away and looks into my eyes.

"You won't be."

Soon, he and Lucy were gone, disappearing down the cream corridors of the mental hospital. One last look and he had moved on, in every sense of the word. I curl up- trying to not let my demons take their place. I was strong- I could manage on my own. It had been over a year now- surely I could. Then the helpers came in- probably just to clean the room.

"Miss Harley. We're here to relocate you."

I turn around, confused. "What? No."

They approach me, their latex gloves handling me like a child.

"Get off me! I don't need relocating I'm fine- No!" They put their hands over my mouth, and then spray something in my face, making everything go dark.

"Good Morning Lyra." The smug voice rings in my ears, and the bag comes off my head, and I see I'm in a black office. I look across and almost gasp at the face I had wiped from my mind.

"Hello Mycroft." I smirk.

"You look better. Didn't really think they were relocating you to a more intensive care unit did you?" He says as he flicks through a folder- likely mine.

"Why did you take me?" I ask.

"You're cured; it's time to come back."

I stand up; making the guards by my side flinch- but Mycrofts hand signal tells them to let me be.

"I'm not going back into your work Mycroft, how could you even ask that-"I start, my shouting echoing through the room.

"Calm down Lyra. Now listen to me, Sherlock is currently in Eastern Europe, dismantling Moriartys web. You don't have to be in London- I'm asking you to join me on getting my dear brother out; he's got himself in deep."

"Why should I?" I reply shakily.

"Because you're bored. I know you are. Now that our dear Dominick has gone, you can do what you wish without his watching eye." Mycroft says, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the desk. I sit back down slowly.

"Good. So- we shall have you trained up on the job. Assassinating- that sort of stuff. And another thing- you can't run into Sherlock. Only I can. I think we'll wait until he comes back to London for a little reunion."

"Okay." I agree, not sure I wanted to see Sherlock anyway. I'm then guided by his PA Andrea to get ready for this new chapter of my life. She lets me shower, gives me a new set of clothes, full black padded bodysuit, new weapons. I tie my long brown hair up in a tight ponytail. She looks at me across the dressing room.

"One final touch for the new woman." She says, and takes out a red lipstick, offering it to me. A flashback runs through my head- the red dress, the red lipstick, the bloody red night. I push the memory out- my first night in Moriartys house, it was gone, and he wasn't coming back. I kept it inside how angry I was, how it was Sherlock who was alive and not him.

9 months later.

I enter the Russian Palace, greeted by the politician himself, a power-hungry man with a thick moustache.

"Ah. Miss Harley, how glad I am to meet you. Please, follow me." I cast him a wry smile, and follow as he guides me through. As we walk I assess all possible exits- all the possible threats, cameras, guards, boobytraps. This was my last job in Europe before It was back to London- I couldn't mess it up. Mycroft had already returned with Sherlock safely, but I wasn't quite ready. I had built a reputation for myself- they called me 'The Spider.' Weaving my web- trapping those stupid enough to be caught in it, and disposing of them quickly.

"A drink?" The Russian offered me, holding out a glass of vodka.

"Of course." I smile. He pours it, and I see him sneakily signal the door guards to close the doors behind them- thinking I was here to sleep with him. How silly. But best kill him with a smile Lyra, don't want to be cruel. He finishes my glass and goes to put the bottle down- but I fold my fingers around it and take it from him.

"Oh? You want more?" He chuckles; I smile once more and then hit him over the head, smashing the glass, the vodka soaking the royal carpet. He falls to the floor, blood staining the cream. I stand over him, watching him writhe in panic.

"Cheers." I nod, and neck down my glass. I pull out my gun and hesitate, should I let him bleed to death or end his pain here? Then I hear my signal- one of Mycrofts helicopters.

"Goodbye your highness." I state, putting my gun back into my holster. I then clamber out the window, and run to the machine rearing to go. I jump in and we set off into the sky- leaving behind the mess.

"Good job Spider." The pilot says, as he flies me to the airport. I stay silent for the rest of the journey, suddenly feeling sad, I was going back to London for the first time in London, and the real mess was there. Mycroft had told me John and Sherlock had reunited, John's forgiveness stated when they took the terrorist case together. I also heard he had a fiancé and that the wedding was soon. I needed to stay out their way- I would hate to see John; he'd know I knew Sherlock was alive. He would never forgive me. Would any of them even recognize me? I had grown so much- I could barely remember who I originally was. The thoughts race as we touch down at Heathrow Airport- and I'm taken to Mycrofts townhouse.

I walk through the entrance and spot him having his tea- in the room we couldn't speak. He looks across to me, I nod at him and he understands my job abroad is over. I go upstairs to unpack, assuming I was staying for a while.

Two days later, I'm called out my room to Mycrofts room. I enter and almost burst out laughing at the British government in lycra pants. He was sat in his armchair, and had just hung up the phone.

"You wanted me?" I say, standing in the doorway.

"You know what day it is?" He replies.

I hesitate, not wanting to answer but I knew I had to.

"It's the wedding, I know." I say, entering the room fully, closing the door behind me.

"That was Sherlock on the phone, he's in a terrible state, wants me to come. I'm far too busy so I'd like you to go on my behalf, it's only the reception."

"You're expecting me to waltz into John's wedding? After disappearing from the poor man's life for two years, leaving him to grieve when I knew the truth, you really think he'd be pleased to see me?" I exclaim, looking at the man as if he had gone mad.

"It's time Lyra. You've been idle for too long. Your assassin work is done there's no more men to kill thanks to your excellent work. Sherlock needs someone to be there."

"What's in it for me?" I cock my head.

He sighs exasperatedly. "Goldfish." He says and I can't help but smile. He knew Sherlock was no longer as icy as he was, he had gotten attached and now John moving on was killing him, Mycroft couldn't bear to see his brother in this state.

"I'll get ready." I say, and turn away before he can say thank you. I keep my breath steady- this was it. My return into their lives. I wasn't the same girl that left two years ago. I wasn't mad, I wasn't vulnerable, and I wasn't a fool in love.

I stood outside the hall- preparing myself. I was dressed in my party wear, a black sequin dress with ¾ length sleeves that stopped just above my knees. It was night now- after all my stalling. I entered- hoping it was loud so I could sneak my way into the crowd. But no, I managed to enter at the one time it was quiet- the couple's first dance. Sherlock was on the stage- playing the song on his violin beautifully. I made my way through the crowd to get to the front, and the people dispersed like smoke. I saw John's wife only by the back of her blonde head- John was yet to see me. Sherlock looked up for a moment- and instantly our eyes locked. He continued to play- but stared me out. I raised my glass to him with a smile, and then I see the cogs whirr in his head, he had recognized me. His lips parted but he kept playing, his eyes not knowing where to look. I then looked at the happy married couple- and almost dropped my glass. The wife- Mary- was the sniper I hired when I was in Russia with Moriarty. A.G.R.A

Then she saw me, and then she went into panic, looking just like Sherlock, anywhere but me. The tension in the room was only to get worse- when John spotted me. Everyone around had no idea what was going on, the couple kept on dancing, Sherlock kept on playing and I stood like any other guest. John's face turned to one of contempt- trying to mask it in front of everyone only made the vein on his forehead more noticeable. After what felt like a year- the song ended, and the war between us began. The pop songs started and the crowd mingled to dance, and we all found each other in the middle of the dance floor.

When we all reached each other, we realized we didn't have a clue what to say, what was right to say. I then realized it was only me that had questions about Mary- they were all waiting for me to talk. I glanced at Mary who sneakily shook her head, begging with her eyes for me not to say anything; I just hoped she didn't say anything in return.

"John. Sherlock." I state, waiting for them to react.

"Let me guess, you knew." John says, inhaling through his nostrils angrily, turning to Sherlock for confirmation.

"Yes she knew I was alive. I didn't tell you she knew because I wasn't sure she was ever coming back. Clearly I've been proven wrong." Sherlock replies, turning his head to me. "Lyra, you've changed. Mycrofts work I presume?"

"About a year and a half's worth." I reply casually.

"What about your- the mental hospital?" John says, confused.

"I did my time." I reply, and then look at Mary. "Might I say congratulations to the happy couple?"

"Of course, Lyra this is Mary, my wife." The couple smile at each other, but Mary was panicking.

"Okay, we might as well move on. Lyra is back- that's established, I'm alive- I think that's been established for a while now, shall we get over ourselves and let John and Mary and the little one enjoy their wedding?"

"The little one?" Mary finally speaks- looking at Sherlock.

I then watched with amusement as it became apparent that Mary was in fact pregnant, the couple panicked at the happy occasion. But I sensed something underneath- through Sherlock's explanations at how he knew I watched Mary look distant, her mind somewhere else, but where? She had clearly made this other identity to have a normal life- Sherlock hadn't even found that out yet. One up for me, but now wasn't the time to interrogate her. The couple then go off and dance, leaving me and Sherlock standing on the dance floor. I watch him look to the side at one of the bridesmaids he had befrie-hang on. That was Janine,my old coee. What was this, a planned reunion? I roll my eyes- I'll get to the bottom of that later. But she passed Sherlock on the dance- signalling to him she had pulled with some guy with glasses. He looks back at me.

" Come on Sherlock." I say and we approach each other. He puts his arms around me and we dance slowly and casually.

"So, what's new?" I say, trying to break the ice.

"Oh not much. Spent 2 years undercover, came back to John with a new life, you gone from your mental unit. How about you?" He replies.

"Got treated, got an assassin job, came back to everyone moving on. Same really." I say, but the elephant in the room was constricting out conversation. I hold onto his arms in the dance, and for a few minutes we simply dance.

"Lyra…" Sherlock starts and I look up at him. "I'm sorry; I never had my chance to say it two years ago. I had to leave- you know. I should have been able to convince him you loved him- because you did. I'm sorry he's gone- I know you loved him."

"I still love him Sherlock- I know he's dead. It's just so unfair-"

"Unfair I'm alive and he's not?" He chuckles.

"In the nicest way possible, yes." I laugh back, and we were friends again.

"Might I say, you look different." He says.

"Good different?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, older."He replies and we dance a bit more, and then we pause to watch John and Mary for a while, I decide I'll wait for my chance to come to question 'Mary'.

"Look at them, so happy." I say, and then Sherlock turns to me.

"You're not?" He questions.

"Are you?" I challenge him. Then I look up and see tears were welling in his eyes. I grab his hand- realizing the pain he must be going through.

"You want to go home?" I ask. He nods, and we sneak out the room, grabbing our coats and walking away from the hall of warmth, of happiness, of love. We were alone together, heartbroken and cold, we didn't belong there, we never would.

Walking back into Baker Street was strange, the echoes of the past ran through me, my old apartment was empty, but not occupied. We entered Sherlocks sitting room and Sherlock looked out the window.

"Sherlock. You'll be fine." I say.

"I know." He replies neutrally. He didn't want to be alone, watching this change in him was breaking me, and I now knew why Mycroft wanted me with him. After making him tea, I set up my bed on the couch and he went into his room. I lied awake- thinking of all the people I had to confront. Where was Irene? Where was Sebastian? This life didn't just include the angels- the devils were still somewhere, and they still held a place in my heart. Mrs Hudson- hopefully she'll still like me. And Mary was the biggest mystery of all. As the night progressed, images of him flashed through, but I hadn't cried in almost a year and a half, I couldn't break now. He was gone, and I had to accept he wasn't going to come back like Sherlock did. I reach to the side, pretending he was beside me, pretending I was In his arms. I then stood up, disgusted at myself for being so weak. I found myself padding down the hallway, ending at Sherlocks door. I opened it and he was stood in the middle of his room, smoking. He turns around and holds another one out for me and we lie down on the bed, smoking in silence.

We stub the fags out when they reach their end and wait for sleep to take us away from our grim realities.

"I'm here now Sherlock, let's not leave each other again." I say, not knowing where the sentence came from, I just hoped it brought him some sort of comfort. I turn on my side on the bed, facing Sherlock who was also on his side. He puts his hand on my face, looking into my eyes deeply.

"Stay." He utters, and I lean in, closer to him than ever.

"I missed you." I confess.

"I know." He says, and then his lips were on mine, wiping away the claim Jim had on them. I kiss him back, and then he turns away, looking confused. He sits up but I reach out to stroke his back.

"It's okay, we're all lonely sometimes." I soothe.

"It's not right; it's your fault- returning out the blue, so grown up and beautiful." He confesses. He then lies back down, and I don't say anything. Everything was muddled up- I couldn't believe we had just kissed. I wanted to stay- but I couldn't give my heart away again, it was still Jim's, which was never going to change.

"Goodnight Sherlock." I say, and with that, we fell asleep.

Marys POV 

Me and John were waiting in the airport for our flight, and I managed to escape to the toilets to make the call. It rang three times before he picked up.

"She's back. She's back and she'll figure it out- how I helped you fake your death, she hired me for god's sake." I babble, letting go of all my stress I had held inside since I saw Lyra at the wedding.

"Don't worry, when she does- I'll be ready." He replies in a soft Irish drawl.

"You're coming back for her? Why?" I exclaim, trying to keep quiet in the cubicle.

"Unfinished business." He simply says, and then the line goes dead.

Oh god, till then, I had to lie to her and let her continue believing he was dead. I just hoped she wouldn't blow my cover- it was all so messy with her return. So much for domestic bliss with John, it looked as though the consulting criminal wasn't quite done.


	22. Chapter 22

I left the apartment before Sherlock woke up, leaving a note written on his information map in the living room.

"Leaving for a while, Mycroft's given me a mission."

It wasn't a total lie, Mycroft had asked me to find my own place, and I couldn't bunk in his spare rooms forever. Sherlock never called me, John must have been too absorbed in domestic life, so for the next month I sorted my new place, taking after Miss Adler and getting a house in Belgravia. It was beautiful, spacious and elegant, I was happy I could afford the high lifestyle now. Perhaps I'd run into her again. I filled it with designer furniture, bought myself even more fancy clothes and actually staffed the house. But even with all these things to comfort me, I still felt that numb sense of isolation.

One morning, I woke up to a surprise text off John, I hadn't heard him from in ages, I wasn't sure I was completely forgiven yet.

"Come to Sherlocks, you're in for a shock."

I murmur it out loud, trying to figure out what this shock would be, I didn't like surprises. I hop out of bed and make my way to the kitchen, where my cook is just cleaning the stove. He turns around and smiles at me warmly, the crow's feet around his eyes stretching.

"Good Morning Miss Harley, the usual?" He says fondly. I nod, eagerly awaiting his speciality of French toast. He whips it up in five minutes, and I savour the buttery taste, telling myself I'll burn it off later. Once I'm done, I go back upstairs and my cleaner/stylist Penny had already subtly suggested my outfit. I smirked; she loved to rifle through my walk in wardrobe. I slipped on the deep green dress and tights, adding my leather jacket. I then texted my driver and the Bentley was soon out at the front. I smiled to myself for a moment, it felt good to be rich, and I'd have to thank Mycroft for the payslip's soon. I got in and looked out at London as I was driven to Baker Street, taking it all in, my true home, my playground.

"John, you up here?"I call, going up the stairs, considering when was the time to remind Mrs Hudson I still had a key to the building. Nothing could have prepared me for what I walked in on; I opened the door to John sitting on the coffee table, a disbelieving smile playing on his face and what at? Sherlock, with Janine the PA on his lap. All three of them turned to me, and I realized I had made quite a strange, silent entrance onto this little episode of unexpected romance.

" Lyra- god it's weird calling you by your real name. Er, this is Janine, Sherlock's girlfriend." John said, patting the space next to him on the table, and I saw his chair had gone, odd. I sat down, still staring at the two, entwined so much they could turn into a two-headed monster. Janine then frowned, looking at me closely.

"Oh my god- we used to work together. We spoke at my leaving party. Effy wasn't your real name?" Her delightful Irish accent made my nerves tick, if I had to witness one more Jim reminder I'd explode, there was none of this in Eastern Europe….perhaps I should never have returned.

"Yeah, it's Lyra. Fancy seeing you here. How's the er-new job?" I manage, trying not to stare as Sherlock strokes her long black hair.

"Oh it's grand, long hours though. I should be off in fact." She says, and gets up, and Sherlock follows her to the door, mine and John's eyes trailing after them.

"Call me." I hear Sherlock say to her.

"I might, unless I meet someone prettier." Janine replies, and me and John look at each other as though we were making a pact to poke each other's eyes out. I then wish I could do just that to my ears, as I hear their kisses loudly. The noise makes my insides turn, and the sight was unbearable. I couldn't even tell, was this just being grossed out, or jealousy? No, I wasn't jealous, I had no feelings for Sherlock, and I wasn't a love-struck teenager any more. Janine left after whispering something likely irrelevant to Sherlock and he shut the door sharply after her, the real him shining through. Sherlock turned around to me and John, still gawping.

"Good Morning Lyra, good to see you, what's it been, a month?" He says, going back to his chair and sitting down. I couldn't stand seeing him smile gloat fully; he knew what he was doing.

"Yeah, about that. What have you been up to?" I reply, and John laughs to himself, shaking his head, Sherlock was struggling to string together an answer, so John took the liberty.

"He's been in a drugs den, got himself hooked to a girlfriend and heroine." He says, with a hint of shaming for Sherlock.

"I thought we established it was for a case-"Sherlock added. "Care to help with this case, Lyra?"

I stare right through him. "No thanks, I don't do that anymore. I should be off." I reply, and get up, trying my best to keep my composure until I was at least out the room.

"Killing better than solving then?" Sherlock calls after me, but I just shut the door, and then ran out, clambering into the back seat of the car. God, I hated him.

"Anything from Mycroft?" I ask the driver, and he hands me a piece of paper. On it was a mission, something to distract me. And so I spent my afternoon raiding an underground prostitute organization, ruthlessly hunting out the organizers who kept these barely legal girls hooked on drugs to please men. I entered their office and I almost laughed at the sight of them scrambling about, they knew who I was.

"It's The Spider!" One of them shouted, looking at me like I was some sort of monster, perhaps I was. I shot him in the crotch, and he fell to the floor, I then went on to kick the next in the jaw, and then shooting him in the head. Once they were all done, I freed the girls and left, the day was over. But still, I wasn't distracted enough, not satisfied. Friday night was starting in London town, and I realised I hadn't gone out clubbing for two years, one night couldn't hurt.

Soon I was in the middle of the dance floor, my face painted in smoky eye makeup and my hair tousled from all the dancing. I let myself go, closing my eyes and losing all the stress I had come back to. And then, a pair of hands were on me, my instinct was to pull away from the slime balls that tried to grind on you at clubs, but I turned around and saw he was actually quite good-looking, my perfect opportunity to get back at my bad luck with men. Dead or alive, they had messed me up. I smiled at him,and he looked at me darkly. I then turned back around to face the DJ and we danced together, his hands groped me but I didn't mind, he even nibbled at my neck when I threw it back. I closed my eyes and pretended he was someone else, someone gone. He then took my hand and lead me into a more private area, and then kissed me fiercely, as though my mouth was his oxygen source. Our teeth clashed and he ran his hands through my hair. This wasn't me, I never did this with strangers, but as long as I pretended this wasn't some random stranger it was okay. This was my revenge, not just at Jim for leaving me so cruelly, but at Sherlock for messing me around.

"You wanna get out of here beautiful?" He shouted over the thumping music, and I nodded, still refraining from letting him hear my voice. He led me out the club, but just as he hailed a taxi to go back to his place. It was about midnight now, but just as I was beginning to forget, I got a call of John, I looked at the guy apologetically, telling him I had to take it.

"John, what is it?" I say, walking away from my random hot stranger.

"Sherlock." He said, and before he could continue, my drunken mind made me interrupt him.

"Oh John I don't care what that man has done-"I start, but John then shouts over me.

"He's been SHOT, Lyra. He's been shot. We're at the hospital; you need to get over here." I freeze, hearing the hurt in John's voice. Sherlock…shot? I look back at the guy, still looking at me like I was a piece of meat, and realized how stupid I was being.

"Sorry I've got to go." I say, and he looks at me in disbelief as I run off, only around the corner from the hospital. I then realise I was wearing the guys coat; this could raise a few eyebrows from the others at the hospital.

I reach the hospital waiting room, and it was only John, not Mary, as well as Molly. She gets up; looking shocked at seeing me for the first time in years.

"Oh my god Lyra?!" She shouts giddily, so she had discovered my real name too. She hugs me and I hesitate before returning it, she then stands back and looks me up and down. "Christ- where have you been, or who with should I say?"

"Oh, I just felt like going out, might have met someone there." I say, looking guilty, John was even staring; I must have looked a state. Molly handed me a tissue, and I dabbed the sides of my mouth where my lipstick had smudged, and my mascara had ran. How embarrassing I thought to myself, I was such an idiot, trying to make Sherlock jealous. I then went into Sherlock's room, where he was asleep with machines attached to him. The gunshot wound was so close to his heart- he could have died, and that would have been that. I'd have lost both of them. I sit on the end of the bed, and lean forward, examining his face. He jolted, making me jump, but he was so doped up on morphine all he could manage was a garble of words and his eyes looked into mine.

"Tell Lyra-"He drabbled, but soon he was asleep again. I stroked the side of his face.  
>"Oh Sherlock." I murmured, I couldn't be this close to men that valued their lives less than I valued them, another person's death could never end mine. I then turn around at the door opening, expecting John's caring face to be there. But there she stood, with a red rose in a vase in her hands, the woman.<p>

"Hello Lyra." She says, and I take my hand off Sherlock. She enters the room and places the rose on the table at the end of the bed, and sits on the chair next to it, crossing her legs and leaning back, examining the unconscious Sherlock.

"Irene- how-"I murmur, seeing her after all this time was so strange.

"I can care too." She replies, not taking her eyes of Sherlock.

"Did you?" I say, and she looks at me, knowing I was talking about Jim's death.

"No, I didn't. He's yours." She says, and I could barely keep my anger in. She got to be with Jim the longest, the closest, yet she didn't even have to go through the pain of his death. And now here she was, caring for Sherlock just as I was.

"You've changed." Irene adds, and I scoff at her nerve before she continues. "I mean it, I hear they're calling you the spider now, very apt."

"Why?" I say, slightly louder and angrier than I intended.

"It's what Sherlock called him, him and his web. Anyway, I'm not here to stay, see you soon Lyra." She says, getting up.

"Why would we see each other soon?" I say, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know, everyone's returning now, things coming together." She said, and she leaves without a glance behind at me. I look about the room, what the hell was she on about? I could never figure her out. But me and Sherlock weren't alone for long, soon there was another visitor, but I knew her by her shadow before I looked.

"Hello 'Mary'." I say, and turn, to see her standing there, looking pained. "What have you come in here for?"

"Please. It was me, who shot him, but I knew what I was doing, I wasn't going to kill him. I was in this man- Magnussens office, he knows who I am. And I can't let this get back to John- and now Sherlock knows."

"And you came to tell him not to tell John?" I ask, assessing the woman.

"Please don't tell him Lyra, I know you, I know who you care for. I'm sorry that my boss, your love is gone. But please, please I need to tell Sherlock not to tell him." She practically cried, she really was desperate.

"Go ahead, Mary." I said, taking pity on A.G.R.A, I'd let her play out this little scene. She managed to stir Sherlock and warned him not to tell anyone about her identity. Before leaving, she took one last look at me.

"You are very good, maybe even the best." She said another baffling statement. "We are more alike than you think."

"We all just want to move on." I reply, and she nods, leaving without another word.

I move to sleep on the visitor's chair, curling myself up to get as comfortable as possible. I'm woken up when Sherlock gets his third female visitor excluding me; the man was turning into quite the popular patient. It was Janine, his girlfriend.

"Oh, sorry I'll give you some privacy." I say, getting up and making to leave. She simply stands, looking down at Sherlock.

"It was all a lie, you know. He was using me to get to my boss- even proposed to me." She said, suppressing either a laugh or a tear, I couldn't quite figure it out. All I could think was how relieved I was, Sherlock had gone to extreme lengths before to solve a case, and this was hardly a big shock.

"I'm sorry." I manage and she scoffs, knowing she had been beaten by this genius. But I was sure she'd have her say, I noticed in her hand newspapers- she had sold fake stories of him to the press, she'd do well. I spent my day hanging around the hospital; I even went past the room I once stayed in, after the explosion of the apartments, where Sebastian almost killed me. I smiled fondly at the room, remembering Jim staying with me, working from the chair whilst holding my hand. I turned away, I could pretend however much I wanted, he'd never leave.

It reached night, when I went back into Sherlock's room, and he was mid-way through climbing out the window.

"Sherlock!" I shout, and I see him silently curse. I put my hand on his shoulder and force him to face me. "What do you think you're doing?" I hiss.

"Going to sort John and Mary out." He replies simply.

"What do you mean-sorting them out?" I say, and then realize, he was going to reveal Mary for what she really is. "Sherlock- I know too." He frowns, looking at me in wonderment.

"How?" He asks.

"I met her once- the real her. She begged me not to say anything- can't you just let her move on?"I beg.

"Sorry Lyra- John needs to know the truth." He says, and climbs out the window, miraculously making it down to the pavement safely. I lean out the window and he looks up at me.

"Go to my place- I'll meet you there." He shouts, and I smirk, the softer side of him shining through.

I wait at his place, Mrs Hudson busied herself round his flat, her attitude towards me was so cold she was trying to look anywhere but me, she practically hated me for leaving her on her own after Sherlocks apparent death, as neither me nor John ever paid her a visit. I hoped it would all blow over. Just as she was starting in the kitchen Sherlock, John and Mary returned, and I could see from John's expression he knew the truth. I looked at Mary apologetically but she didn't return the look.

"Did you know?" John approaches me, we had just made up and now this. I nod, wanting to be as silent as I could in this 'little domestic' as Sherlock called it, Mrs Hudson scurried off from the drama. I merely played my part of the watcher as John worked himself up, Sherlock explained and Mary told them who she really is. It was all rather tragic, and I watched as all the sentiment caused so much mess, so much more than it was worth. Soon they had left, not knowing how long it would take for this to heal for the sake of their marriage, or for their unborn child. The paramedics had been called for Sherlock; the man had put his life in jeopardy by neglecting his morphine so he could concentrate on the problem at hand for John. Once he was steady again, he was lying on his couch and I was sat on the end, just like the hospital again.

"What's wrong Sherlock?" I murmur.

"What do you mean?" He asks, his brows furrowing. I sigh, and then signal for him to budge over and he does, making room for me to lie beside him, he puts his arm around me.

"Maybe I should never have come back." I say, and he turns, looking right at me.

"No, don't think that. I need you here, we're both needed here." He says, and I put my face in my hands, as though it would shield me from the harshness of the situation.

"Sherlock- when I saw you with Janine, I went to the club that night, and tried to hookup with some random guy." I confess.

"That was stupid, why did you-"He starts, then his eyes widen, realizing. "Oh, you were…"

"Jealous. I don't know why." I add, but then Sherlock shifts forcefully, and he goes from being on my side to being on top of me, straddling me to the bed.

"I know." He says, and then leans his face down to kiss me for the second time, but with so much force than last time, this was urgent, as though we would never get the chance again. He draws back, looking at me for a response.

"You're not in pain?" I ask shyly, to which he shakes his head, so I kiss him back, holding his jaw, drawing him closer. My head stopped whirring for once- memories stopped replaying, I actually felt present, happy to be in it too. I unbutton his dark purple shirt, and then he shrugs it off, but he was yet to strip me of my clothes. He then kisses my neck, nibbling lightly, and then enough to make me moan. But then, just as I thought he was going to take the step- he got up. He paced the room, leaving me squished into the sofa, confused.

"Sherlock what the bloody hell-"I start, looking at him, showing I was hurt.

"It's not the right time." He says, and then strides off into his room, slamming the door, my cue to leave. I text my driver, and soon I'm back in my grand home. That was strange- really strange, just as I thought it was really happening he left, and I was just another deduction. At least he was broadening his horizons- perhaps his time pretending with Janine had made him curious. I go to bed grumpy and frustrated.

The next months passed with little focus on anything but Mary's pregnancy. The couple were still at knots with each other and Mary often called me for ' tea meetings' which often turned into her tagging along my assassin missions, getting her own fix, no care for the baby perhaps. Sherlock acted again as though nothing had happened, it was infuriating.

One day, I got a text off Mycroft, telling me to meet him at the office. I barge in without thinking- and instead of just Mycroft; it was the bloody team of the British Government. They all looked at me, confused until Mycroft stepped in.

" This is her, I can assure you, she will be able to say it is a better punishment." He said, and then directed his speech at me. " Miss Harley, my brother has been charged with murder. Rather than being sent to jail, would you say he will be more useful in Europe?"

" Yes." I merely reply as my head raced, Sherlock, a murderer? Soon they all decided it was for the best, and before I knew it we were at the airport, I arrived with Mycroft, John and Mary yet to come. I walk up to Sherlock without falter, and slap him hard.

" You're leaving me." I say, my fury uncontainable. He regains his composure, touching his reddening cheek,

" This isn't my choice." He replied, looking down at me, searching for forgiveness.

" When are you coming back?" I challenge him, not breaking my ground.

" Lyra- Mycroft has confirmed I will only survive for about six months, he's never wrong." He replies, and I practically feel my heart fail, breaking just as it was mending. I look to Mycroft, who gives me a curt nod, a confirmation this was the last time I'd see Sherlock. Before I can say anything, John and Mary arrive, and I stand away from the pair as they say goodbye, John unknowing that he will never see Sherlock again, Sherlock's faith shattering for his lost happiness. Soon, Sherlock is ascending the stairs onto the plane, all of us looking up. Mycroft then steps forward so he is next to me, then leans down and says to me

" Go with him." I falter for a moment, did I want to? Mycroft coughs and steps back, and then Sherlock looks back at me, and I know my answer. I pull in John and Mary, embracing them in a tight hug and then bound up the stairs to meet him, my smile unable to stop. His expression changes from confusion to enlightenement, and he catches me as I bound onto him at the entrance. I kiss him hard, a promise that we were going to die together on this mission, a way of saying I didn't care. Holding me close, he gives one last painful look to John, Mycroft looking anywhere but us and the door closes, and we sit down across each other on the plane.

" You're sure?" He asks, leaning forward and touching my knee.

" Yes, Sherlock, I am." I reply, and move swiftly into his lap and he allows me to , holding me as I wrap myself around him. We then set off, barely noticing the movement as we're too distracted by each other.

" Lyra- you really are the most amazingly brilliant woman I've ever known." He says, and kisses my forehead. I closed my eyes and let myself relish in the moment, knowing I'd soon be dead, but by his side. The man who never saw me when I was the girl, but who fathomed me and loved me as who I had become.

" Sherlock Holmes, I am in-" I start, and then we are comically cut off by the flight attendant handing Sherlock the phone. He puts it to his ear quickly.

" What now?...I've only been gone five minutes. Who needs me now?" He says, and then his face of light bemusement changes to horror, and the tv in the plane switches on, the voice echoing through the cabin. The slick black hair, the pale skin, the arched eyebrows, the grey suit, the dark, unfeeling black eyes.

" Did you miss me?"


	23. Chapter 23

" This is a matter of national security Sherlock, I'm bringing him in, seeing as he witnessed it himself." Mycroft said to Sherlock, who was stood beside me in Mycroft's office. I was yet to fully understand what they were on about, or whom.

" He took out John's sniper, hardly there on the rooftop." Sherlock replied bitterly, to which Mycroft gave him one of his signature grimacing smiles.

" Well- you were the only close witness and yet you didn't see how it was a fake death, so he appears to be our only option." He said, and Sherlock blew air through his teeth, this was apparently a big ask.

" Sherlock who are you-" I start, tightening my grip around his hand.

" My brother." He replied, looking down at me. Wait, what?

" Mycroft?" I ask, and both the men sigh and roll their eyes.

" Our third brother." Sherlock then says. Oh god, as if there weren't enough Holmes, there's another.

" I hired him to take out John's sniper, we need to hear what he has to say." Mycroft says whilst dialling his phone, and soon this mystery brother was on his way.

Me and Sherlock stood idly, staying strong, neither of us had said a word, we didn't have to. I was yet to fully believe it, I mean, it was a fake, high pitched voice, simply a picture edited, and he had shot himself in the mouth, it just couldn't be true. The 18 year old me rattled her cage depe within me, screaming at me to confront the truth, the present me refusing. And then the brother arrived, and when I turned around at him coming into the room, I swore loudly.

" Oh shit." I sigh. Sherlock then looks at me quizically.

" What is it?" He asks.

" Oh- nothing." I reply, and stare this Holmes brother out. How could I, an intelligence assasin manage to pick the one man in London to get off with at the club that was in fact a Holmes? His cheeky grin irritated me to the point I could of stormed out, but I kept under control.

" Hello again." He says, shaking my hand.

" You've met?" Mycroft inquires.

" Yes- in Eastern Europe often Mr Holmes?" I lie, quickly trying to cover myself up in front of Sherlock.

" Only for business trips." He replies, still smirking, I prayed he wouldn't ask for his jacket now. From then on, he didn't say anything about it. I couldn't believe my bad luck, Sherlock could never find out about this. Soon we got into the real matter at hand, Moriarty.

" I asked the sniper I assasinated a few questions sure, but he didn't know anything about Moriarty blowing his own brains out or anything, was just as shocked as dear brother. He told me there was another sniper, who had Moriarty in view, couldn't get anything else out of him." The brother explained, his name revealed to be Danny. He kept diverting his glance to me, my face reddening each time he did. But I had the odd suspicion he was holding more secrets than just the one that he's made out with me before.

I stand up quickly and run out the room of all the Holmes, knowing exactly where I had to go. Sherlock comes after me in the corridor, breathless.

" Lyra- where are you going?!" He shouts, catching up with me quickly. I turn around to him.

" I think I'm onto something- please, let me do this on my own, understand?" I say. He hesitates and then nods, pulling me in close and leaning towards my ear.

" Please don't let his return change anything with us." He says, a plea in his voice, and then he kisses my head, drawing me in even tighter so I had my face against his warm chest.

" I won't, I promise." I reply.

" I'll remember that tonight." He says, now happier, and free's me to leave. I wonder what he meant by tonight? I brush the question off, and make my way to John and Mary's place. I arrive and thankfully it's just Mary, I didn't need to send John off to the shops or something to get privacy. She opens the door silently and we walk into the sitting room, she takes her seat on the couch and lets me stand in front of her.

" So, you've figured me out." She replies, and I stare at her coldly.

" You were there, that day. You knew Sherlock faked his death, and you let John mourn all that time-" I start, but then she wails and puts her face in her hands.

" Please don't tell John that- I know that's your threat, I had to. I know what information you want in exchange for not telling him I knew about Sherlock's fake death. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you he was alive, he told me not to. " She says through sobs.

" Go on then, I want to know how Jim did it." I say, preparing myself for this grand plan.

" When he shook hands with Sherlock, that was the message, my cue. I was stationed in the right place- and I knew what I had to do. Pretty lucky Sherlock blinked and stood back when he did- Moriarty put a gun in his mouth, and I shot the pouch tucked in his coat collar at the back, the pouch filled with blood."

" I told him you had a perfect aim." I say, smirking, but my blood was boiling.

" Then Sherlock didn't even check him, jumped off the roof and that was that. Ever since he has been in hiding, waiting to come back."

" Before he did, I told him I loved him. Did he ever-" I start.

" No, he never said anything about that I swear." She said, and I had no choice to believe her. I sit back, trying to think of anything but how I had spent a year in mental health care because of his death, his fake death. But that time was gone, wasted, but it couldn't be changed.

" Thank you Mary, I won't tell John, I promise." I say, and see myself out, unsure of where to go next, but now sure it was real, he was alive body and soul. Then a thought strikes me, who else knew? I sent Irene a text, telling her to meet me at the bar she took me to when pretending to take me as hostage. I entered the snazzy bar to find her sitting at the bar in a knee length black dress with studded shoulder pads. I take my place next to her and order a gin and tonic.

" You coping?" She remarks, looking at me with intrigue.

" Did you know?" I ask.

" I suspected, it wouldn't make sense for him to die when he loved you." She replied and I banged my fist on the table, making her jump.

" If he loved me he wouldn't have left me for 3 years." I hiss, and she leaves it be, sipping her drink quietly. I felt assertive, my idol was now my rival, only at times a true friend.

" So, hear you and Sherlock were about to jet off together to certian death- what does that tell us about the grown-up Lyra?" She says, the smile playing on her lips again, but I could tell she felt threatened, she was no longer the only woman to Sherlock.

" Yes, we were. I was happy." I reply simply, necking the remains of my drink down and standing up, this little women's meeting was over.

" That passes." She whispers, and we continue to sit in silence, watching the people go by, until she speaks again. " Lyra, you've had many choices in your life, but you understand they're going to ask you again, the promise you'll be on the angels side."

" I know, and I have no reason not to be on their side." I reply sarkly.

" Lyra, I know you. You are no angel, no matter how great a fighter you are, it does not make you a predictable one. Don't lose that, please. You're cracking, I can see it, you don't want your life to be filled with regret."

I slap her harshly across the face, and she sat back, barely bothered, but I was fuming with anger. Who did she thinks he was, a god playing chess with me and those that mattered to me? I leave quickly, regretting ever organizing the little meet up.

Again, where to go? I knew the moment I was alone- the moment I stopped asking questions my mind would start answering them, reminding me of the past, convincing me this was a good thing. Was I glad Jim was alive...I could no longer deny he was... I couldn't decide, we were so different now, so distant. I could barely remember what if felt like to be under his thumb, I wasn't prepared to get ensnared in his web again. Did he know about me and Sherlock? I contemplated calling Dom for a moment, then decided not to- I hadn't heard from him in almost a year, so much for staying in touch. It all felt so unfair- I was so close to escaping this world of emotion, of just having 6 months left of this tedious life, with the one person that mattered, that cared about me. Jim never cared, he just used me up and threw me out. He wasn't back for me, he was back for power, to torture.

That evening, I arrived at Sherlock's, entering the flat to a surprise. Candles were lit, nat king cole was playing and Sherlock was stood in the middle of the room, looking awkwardly anxious.

" Good Evening. " He smiles, and I drop my bag, feeling all gooey. " How are you feeling?" He then asks, looking a bit more concerned.

" I'm fine Sherlock, the Lyra who was with Moriarty isn't me anymore." I reply, and lean up to plant a kiss on his lips.

" I don't know when he's going to make his next move." Sherlock whispered.

" We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." I merely remark, it felt as though I was trying to stay afloat an impending stormy sea, my head just above the waters surface, trying to breathe, as the sea tried to take me. No, I was strong, if I had to repress these emotions forever, so be it.

" Dance with me." Sherlock then said, putting his arm around my waist. I smiled and put my arms on his shoulders, and we started to sway to the vintage tunes. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his pounding heartbeat.

" We were so close to escaping all of this." I whimper.

" Yes, I know." He replied, and lifted my chin up to force me to look at him. " Lyra- if this is the last night we have before-I just wanted to say this."

I looked up at him expectantly, and he closed his eyes, calming himself. I took the time to stare without feeling shy, admire his untameable curls, his cheekbones, his jawline, his eyelashes, everything. How we never saw two years ago, how much I was unaware what I really wanted.

" Lyra, when we first met, I saw you as a stupid little girl-" He starts.

" Sherlock- don't ruin it." I but in, but he shakes his head at me, starting again.

" I didn't appreciate you because I thought you had given everything up for sentiment, all your potential. And then, when he was gone, you became this brilliant person, and I realized I had done what I never thought to be possible- I felt equal to you, and being on that same level gave me new eyes. He never told you, he slept with you, but by no means did he ever put his feelings into words. I won't make that mistake, I'm telling you now that I love you."

Tears well in my eyes, he opened his own and I saw they were red, blistering with pain of his discovered feelings. He was terrified, terrified of where it would take him.

" I love you too Sherlock." I say, and he kisses me passionatley, and instead of his usual holding himself back, he picks me up in his arms and carries me into his bedroom. He puts me down and stands, unsure of what to do next, so I help him, he was a virgin after all. I lean forward and undo his belt, he stands still, staring down at me. He then reaches for the hem of my top and pulls it over my head, tossing it to the side. We both undressed each other slowly, savouring this moment in the eye of the storm, before the worst was to come. His eyes feasted on me in wonder, and I really felt beautiful in his eyes. I then turn him over onto his back, showing him all I was worth. I asked for his permission with my eyes, and from there we were in ectasy, his eyes watched me as he leant his head back on the pillow, his hands holding mine tightly as he gave into his desire.

I woke ensnared in his arms, I was so warm, we were still completely naked we were so worn out. I look up at him still asleep and trail the line of his lips with my finger daintly. He wakes up just as the sun comes through the window and smiles at me, remembering the night.

" I'm making breakfast." I say, and get up, shrugging one of his shirts on.

" I'm a lucky man." He says, and I wink at him before heading out into the kitchen. I set about to make pancakes, I hadn't had them in years. Just as I was plating them up he came out in his dressing gown and sat down, eagerly awaiting to deduce my cooking skills. Just as he was digging in however, John enters, and he almost chokes on his coffee seeing us both. I dive onto the chair, covering up the fact I wasn't wearing any pants.

" John, Hi." I say, breathless.

" About bloody time." He says, and laughs at us both. He goes into the living room and I go into Sherlock's bedroom to change. Just as I'm about to head back out to meet them I pause by the door, eavesdropping.

" So what does this mean Sherlock?" I hear John asking.

" I'm not sure, I just know I'm...happy." Sherlock replies, making me grin to myself like an idiot. I then head out, and we all stand, waiting for the elephant in the room to be mentioned.

" So, he's back. We know this is going to be dangerous, tough, and deadly." John concludes the matter, and a sense of friendship radiates in the room, I knew I couldn't betray them this time, they were my whole life, and we'd see this thing through together, whenever it would strike.

" Yes, John. We're all together in this." Sherlock says, and then looks at me, his eyes searching for the same promise.

" I'm with you." I say back, and then just as everything aligned, it was shattered, a boom blasted through the room, the windows shattered, the men ducked, sherlock's arm tried to grab me but the impact knocked us all, my head hit the floor and everything went dark.

Everything was murky, lost in a storm, and then I hear him.

_"Ring- a ring a roses, _

_The door to love closes, _

_Oopsy- daisy, Oopsy doo, _

_Lyra falls down. _

_I'm looking to slaughter_

_You belong only to me _

_And we go up, up. _

_With a 1-2-3. "_


	24. Chapter 24

The blistering pain woke me up, and the uncomfortable texture of the NHS gown...wait, what? I open my eyes to a sight of a ghastly yellow covered room, it was my room, my mental room. I bolt up, and look down at myself, sitting in hospital clothes, attached to an IV. I press the nurse button, then when they take their time I scream until they come rushing in.

" Miss Harley it's okay-" They start, but my shouts drone them out.

" No it's not, tell me why I'm back in this loony bin!" I scream at them, and then when I try to get up they restrain me, pinning me to the raised back of the bed. I try to kick- but I couldn't feel my legs, oh god, please don't tell me I'm paralysed.

" You never left Lyra- you've been here for 3 years, now please, take your medicine." They say, trying to soothe me. I look at them, frustrated as my mind whirrs. No, they were lying, all of is happened, it was real. Sherlock loved me and Moriarty was back, it wasn't a dream, it wasn't and I knew it.

" No, Jim's back, you have to let me out of here, I need to protect Sherlock!" I cry.

" Jim and Sherlock are dead Lyra, you know that, that's why you were put in here." They respond, still calm. I stop trying to fight them and lean back, trying to remember what had happened before they got me here.

" It wasn't real?" I whimper, realizing I must have officially lost my mind.

" No, you've been calling their names in your sleep." They say, patting my shoulders. But as they do, I grab their wrists and turn them, making them cry out in pain.

" You're liars" LIARS!" I scream in anguish, and then their back up comes in, male nurses pick me up despite my fighting, and give me a sedative, then they take me out the room and it all goes black again.

I wake up again feeling drowsy, and see they've put me in a restraint jacket in a padded circular room, and oh for gods sake- they had chained me to the wall. This was ridiculous, they had to believe me. I bellowed for hours after hours, never silencing myself, not knowing entirely if they could even faintly hear me. I cried aswell- I knew I couldn't be that unstable, I couldn't dream up 2 years of my life, my assasin work in Europe, my feelings for Sherlock, Moriarty returning. And then as the night dragged on my mind began to turn against me, making me feel as though all these stories were very convinient for me, everything going so great. Or was Moriartys return even great? I couldn't remember anything...it was all going drowsy again...I was falling asleep.

It took a week for them to actually open the door- they had been feeding me through a cat flap for days. I shrinked as the light flooded in, and the male nurse stood over me, his hands crossed behind his back.

" Have you accepted it wasn't real now, Lyra?" He says, and I give in, there was no other possible explanation, I must have gone insane.

" Yes." I whimper, squeezing my head with my arms, wishing I could have a better one, a saner one.

" Good." He simply replies, and steps forward to free me of my chains, but not the jacket, they must not trust my violence yet. He leaves, not shutting the door behind him and I hesitate, did I want to go out? Or would I simply rot in my broken mind in solitude for the rest of my life? My stomach growled in protest. I got up, the strength had returned in my legs, and slowly walked out my cell, ready to do it all again, all the treatment. I expect to enter a hallway of motivational posters and sooting art on yellow walls, how it had always been in the mental unit, but no. I freeze as I find myself standing in his entrance, the black and white marble floors, the white wallpaper. I close my eyes, breathe and open them again, was this just another intense dream, I had dreamed up 3 year so why couldn't this just be the same?

And then I knew it was real, I knew I could not imagine him coming out the door, that devilish, triumphant smile on his face as he turns to face me, legs apart, hands in pockets, and wearing his favourite westwood suit.

Moriartys POV

I watched as she stood there, looking so grown-up, minus the restraint jacket. Admittedly, I'd watched her look better in her dresses and heels, but she still managed to look beautiful.

" Got you." I teased, barely able to contain myself, waiting for her reaction. She went to run at me, her eyes tearing me apart, and not in a pleasant way, but I held my hand up.

" Not gonna get very far in that." I say, and point at her arms, crossed over and restrained to her back. " You can talk."

" Where's Sherlock?" She says, and my blood freezes, but I hide it, craning my neck at her.

" He's fine. I'm a little hurt you're not pleased to see me." I say, scoffing.

" Pleased? You expect me to be pleased? You put me through depression, through losing Sherlock, through your own fucking fake death and then to top it all off you made me believe I had gone mad." She said, and I could see her poising like a snake, ready to attack.

" Just a little fun, break your spirit a little, you were far too alive before, getting around all these men, two Holmes brothers Lyra, tut-tut." I said, now approaching her.

" Fuck you." She spat at me, and I rolled my eyes, this really was a bore.

" Just like old times then, you're going to keep me here? Bit extreme, building a replica of the medical unit for a little fun." She continued.

" I had some spare cash, and wanted to see how you'd react, thinking I was still dead, seemed a little distraught. But I'm going to let you go." I reply, and then move behind her and start to slowly unbuckle her from her restraints.

" And then?" She pried, her breath heighteneing now that we were close, so close. I unleashed her arms and she breathed out in relief, such a beautiful sound. I leant into her ear.

" Then you're going to do exactly what I say, or Sherlock will die with a simple gunshot, no more games." I snarl. I step back and she takes the jacket fully off, dropping it on the floor, standing in her hospital gown. I predict it before it even happens, she turns around and hits me, kicks me but barely makes any impact. I grab her wrist in the middle of her attempted punch at my face and twist it, a move I heard from my pretend nurses she had learned herself. I then back her up to the wall and shove her against it, pressing my body onto hers.

" I hate you." She bitterly said, with such fury she might have meant it. I cocked my head, examining her. We were so different than before, she was no longer young and naive, she picked a man she thought was good for her, she thought she didn't love me any more.

" This is how we're going to do this Lyra- you're going to go back to your life, and eventually tell Sherlock you don't love him, break the man's heart and finish him." I say, inches away from her stone cold face.

" No amount of your pathetic threats could ever make me do that, Jim." She replies.

" I know- that's why you're going to do it out of your own free will, eventually." I sneer, my hand clasping around her throat, just enough to give me the satisfaction. I watch as her face turns red, her legs kick, her eyes screaming for me to let her breathe. I lose control- anger takes over me, the shadow I had been for the past two years unleashing, and grip tighter and tighter. And just before I see her life go- I stop, and she collapses to the floor, coughing and spluttering, I really did almost kill her completely, how boring that would have been. I lean down and grab the back of her hair, forcing her head to be level with mine.

" This is my warning, Lyra. I'm going to pick apart your life till you're nothing but the girl I kidnapped all those years ago. You're first mission will arrive tomorrow, and then it all goes in flames." I say, snarling towards the end. I then release her and she scrambles away from me, still too weak to speak. I watch her pathetically try to get up off her knees, desperatley reaching for something already gone. I then nod at the guards- and they pick her up by the arms and drag her back towards me. I cup her chin and go to kiss her, but she wrenches her face to the side despite my grip, so I comply and simply peck her on the cheek, her flushed skin tasting delicious, so I nibble slightly and then step back, grinning at her look of contempt.

" Take her home." I murmur, and soon she is gone, but I'll be seeing her soon enough. I wander up the stairs, and find myself standing in her old room. Even I hadn't been in here for two years, and it was as though her ghost was there with me, the ghost of who she used to be. I opened the wardrobe and looked at all her dresses, chosen by me, I pulled one close and smelled it, letting myself go for a moment. I spent the next minute ripping them apart, tearing them at the seams. Then going to her bed and lying there, senseless. I started to wonder if I myself had gone even more insane, if that were possible, to return after all this time, simply for her. I thought about my past years, spent as a citizen in all sorts of countries, doing barely anything. The truth was, I myself had become depressed, sure I had fooled everyone, but after faking my suicide, I really wanted to die, for real. Matters only became worse when I saw them together, and that's when I couldn't wait any longer- so I hacked all TV screens in England and showed them my return, their faces were priceless. I shake the past off and enter my office, where the first plan was laid out on the desk. The prison security information, the prisoner cell number, the guards stationed around him, boy he was going to be tricky to get out. I picked up the mug shot of him, looking as beaten up as ever.

" Don't worry Seb, I'm putting Lyra on the job. You'll be a free man soon." I say to the photo, missing my sniper dearly, things just weren't as fun without him, I hoped he'd learn not to get himself in so deep next time, even though it was my fault he was in there.

Lyras POV

I'm driven back to my townhouse in a car without Jim, and soon I'm stood completely free in my own hallway- as though nothing had happened. But my closing the door brought voices, at first I though they were in my head, turns out Scotland Yard were in my home and had parked round the back. Lestrade comes out my kitchen, followed my Donavon.

" Bloody hell, she's back. Sherlock!" The inspector shouts, looking at me, gawping like a fish. " Are you okay Miss Harley?"

" Lyra, please. I'm fine, I just need to see-" I say, and then Sherlock comes out the door, and when his eyes set upon me his mouth drops, and I smile at him weakly, before I begin to feel faint. He then notices and runs up to me and catches me before my knees give in, and simply holds me as though I was light as a baby.

" Oh my god, Lyra, I'm so glad you're okay." He says, and kisses me all over, not caring that everyone was watching. I hear Donavon whistle through her teeth and Lestrade cough. Sherlock then carries me into the living room, where John and Mary are sat.

" Lyra- god." John says, looking at me like a broken toy. Sherlock sets me down on the couch opposite and sits on the edge, stroking my hair. He then turns to Lestrade.

" She'll answer your questions later Gary." He says to him.

" It's GREG. Sherlock we need to know, this is about national security-" Lestrade shouts.

" Later!" Sherlock bellows over to him, silencing everyone. Lestrade then shakes his head, nods at me and leaves with the rest of the authorities. Once they had gone, I could see Sherlock was yearning to ask me everything- there were probably hundreds of questions in his head, but he didn't want to trouble me.

" We should go too- but I'm glad you're back safe Lyra. I'm sorry this has happened again, we both are." John says, getting up and holding his hand out to a heavily pregnant Mary. I keep my eyes on her- did she know what was going to happen? She probably wouldn't tell me anymore than she already has- for the sake of her and her unborn child's life. They exit quietly, leaving just me and Sherlock alone.

" What do you want?" Sherlock asks, whilst examining any damage done to my limbs.

" A bath." I chuckle, my first managable laugh in days. He smiles, his crow's feet showing and takes me to the bathroom. He sits me down on the toilet seat whilst he sets about preparing a heavenly bath, using all sorts of bath salts I had in store. As soon as it was ready he stripped me off the basic clothes Jim's men had put me in, his eyes scanning for any signs of abuse- but there was merely the injection mark. His eyes again burn with questions- but he doesn't say a word. He then unbuttons his shirt and belt, taking both off quickly and soon we were lying in the scented water together. He was behind me, keeping me afloat, with his arms around my waist whilt I washed myself, despite his protests.

" I missed you." He says randomly, his arms moving up, his fingers exploring my breasts.

" I noticed." I snigger, and he sits back, coughing in apology. " It's fine." I then say, and he continues to feel me, making me feel worthy. His hand trails down my stomach and then he is touching me there, my knees bend at the feeling and I close my eyes.

" Okay, you're allowed a question." I breathe out, an eye for a eye. He moves his hands back to the sides of the bath and hesitates.

" Did you sleep with him?" He asks, and I whip around, splashing water over the side to face him.

" How dare you! Of course not!" I shout, he suddenly looked very scared.

" I was just wonder-" He blubbered, the genius was cursing himself on the inside.

" How could you ask that- Jesus, Sherlock!" I shout, and find the strength to stand up and step out the bath. I walk completely bare to the other side of the room.

" I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that." He apologises, looking hurt. I look back at him and watch as his eyes leave my stare, looking down. I punish him and grab and towel to cover myself with and he looks down, dissapointed. This stuff was all so new to him.

" Just- ask me something important before we get bombed again." I say, and he steps out the bath- giving me my time to look greedily at his abs and crotch. He then walks confidently over to me and when just inches away, reaches behind me and grabs the second towel on the rack and wraps it around his waist. He ruffles his wet hair out of his face and looks down at me.

" Don't joke about it. Come on- not in here." He says and takes my hand, leading me into my bedroom. He lies down and I lie in his arms, waiting for it to begin.

" Did he tell you about his plan- his plan for me. Will he kill me this time?" He starts.

" Sherlock, I don't think this about you anymore." I start, and his muscles tense." I think he wants to kill me this time."

" Why would he? He loves you." Sherlock replies, but I sense he was scared.

" I think that's exactly why, because I love you now, not him." I whisper, my own fear showing as I stare at him. He simply inhales sharply and holds me closer- his answer to everything, wanting to protect me.

" I won't let him." He promises, and kisses my soaking hair. I close my eyes and fall asleep there in his arms at midday.

I wake up to see a figure standing at the end of the bed, I still and notice Sherlock wasn't next to me. I sit up and see who it is.

" Hello Lyra." Mary says calmly.

" What do you want? Where's Sherlock?" I ask.

" Sherlock's been given a false case, just to keep him out the way. And this is yours- if you don;t succeed, Sherlock won't return safely from this case." She replies, handing me a brown envelope.

" Why are you doing this for him?" I whisper at her,shaking my head.

" Because if I don't, John won't return from the case with Sherlock either." Her voice breaks towards the end and I nod in understanding. She leaves and I put the side lamp on, the room feeling very cold without Sherlock with me. How could he leave me in the middle of the night for a case? I guess some priorities never change with that man. I open the letter and read it.

_Dear Lyra_

_Sebastian Moran has been imprisoned in a high-security cell for 2 years, and I think it's about time you got him out. After all, you were the one that befriended him, making me have to teach him a lesson. He doesn't know I put him in there- he thinks he got caught for all his murdering. Directions and a map of the prison are included- but you're own skill will be needed to do this. You have 24 hours, or there will be no more lovely baths with Sherlock._

_P.S You looked lovely coming out the bath. _


	25. Chapter 25

Lyras POV

I waited in line at Pentoville Prison, amongst the real visitors, waiting to see the inmates they were missing. I was pretending to be Sebastians sister- and I just hoped to god it worked so this could all be done with. We're taken into the gated room and I sit on an empty table, waiting. I rip the water label up in my hands, then tear it into little piecs, so nervous I couldn't even look up, I just waited. Then his hands were placed on the table, his knuckles blistered and burned.

" Good to see you again." He said gruffly. I looked up, and could barely recognize him. The cool, calm Sebastian I knew was gone, and he must have been through some hell here. His face was bruised up, his hair patchy and falling out, his eyes shadowed by grey circles and his waist thinner than ever.

" My god why are they doing this to you-" I gasp, taking it all in.

" Someone put me in here- not long after Jim…you know." He said and I realized, he had been isolated for so long, he was so out of touch with my world that was in turmoil.

" He's alive, Seb." I state, and to convince the guards watching from a distance I was his caring sister, put my hand over his. Sebastian looks up, shocked as he must be.

" He can't be." He says, and his eyes dart around, his mind trying to find a solution.

" He is, and he wants me to get you out of here, understand? So you're going to have to listen to me, this isn't for my doing, this is Jim's, I'm with Sherlock now." I say, and turn his hand discretley so my palm is on his.

" Sherlock?" Sebastian repeats, astonished. I roll my eyes, wasn't the escape more important? I then sprinkle the water label's remains into his palm and he nods, understanding I meant to give them to him. Each torn piece had a code that Moriarty had threatened each security officer with, all Sebastian had to do was show them it and he'd be free.

" You know what these symbols of his mean?" I confirm and he nods again, a grin now spreading across his face.

" 3 years, finally." He chuckles and I shush him, we were plotting an escape here. Soon all the inmates were taken back, Sebastian looking as innocent as ever, and I wait in the parking lot till nightfall. I then suit up in my dark clothes and walk over to the van that had just arrived with the inmates returning from their community service outside the prison. As they are all escorted inside, I tap on the door for the fat driver's attention and he opens the door for me.

" What d'yer want love?" He called, and I descended the van's steps until I was standing over him in his seat.

" My shift now." I say, and with Jim's knock-out spray I take him out. I haul his sleeping obese body onto the back seat with some effort, and wait until I see Sebastian being escorted outside by a blackmailed guard. I open the door for him and the security guard pipes up before we leave freely.

" My children, they will be safe from him?" He asks, so desperately.

" You have his word, thank you." I say, as Sebastian sits in the seat behind me, and I shut the door on him and drive onto the highway. The task was done, finished, Sherlock would be safe now. I drop Sebastian off outside Moriartys house, fighting the urge to go in and kill Moriarty right there. Just before he gets off he turns to me.

" Thanks, I'll miss you around, I have done, these past years. But I like this new you all the same." He smiles and hops off, and the door is opened slightly. I peer through from the driver's seat to see if it was Jim, but it was someone else, a woman. A maid, perhaps? Maybe. I frown, it couldn't have been Irene could it, then again they were very on and off before I arrived. I smirked, I really did destroy everything.

Once I had collected my actual car I drove to Baker Street to surprise Sherlock, but I entered his flat to find he was still not home from his case. I instantly panicked, had Moriarty kept his word? I decide to phone him bravely, and he answers on the fifth wring panting.

" H-Hi dear." He breathes.

" Jim, where's Sherlock?" I demand, trying to ignore his breathlessness, trying not to imagine what he was doing, or with whom.

" Oh he's clever, he figured out it,oh well! He's on his way back safe and sound. Do you want to know where I am?" He then asks cockily.

" No, I don't give a shit." I reply and hang up, simply glad Sherlock was alright. I walk around the flat, nervous for him to return. I then decide to be a good girlfriend for once, and set about lighting some candles, the ones he liked. I put on some soft music, and stripped myself down to just my black lingerie. I smirked, he was going to love this.

Just as I was starting to get impatient, the door swung open and I turned my head, sat in his chair with my legs crossed. He entered and saw me- but he didn't look pleased, and then I saw why- John appeared behind him.

" Oh my god! I shout and grab the blanket from next to the chair, covering myself up and standing, flushing from head to toe. Sherlock looks torn between laughing and shoving John out on the spot, who was looking anywhere but me.

" Sorry-Lyra." John starts, and then Sherlock cracks up, turning John away to leave.

" John- I'm sorry but the cases will have to wait, I need to spend some time with my blushing bride." He chuckles, and John looks confused, but then leaves suddenly.

" Your blushing…bride?" I ask, hugging the blanket around me in the middle of the floor, Sherlock then closes the door and faces me, his face still gleeful despite everything going on.

" I wish so." He says, and then I go into shock as he bends down on one knee, his eyes looking at me with such appreciation. " Lyra Harley, I've wanted to do this for quite some time, but you've just proven to me any more minutes I waste not married to you are wasted. You are so perfect, surprising, you are me, and if you know me well- you'll know I quite like myself. I hope you do too." He says, mumbling towards the end, anxiety taking over his speech as he fumbles around in his coat pocket and retracts a box, opening it in front of me to uncover a sparkling diamond ring.

" Oh,Sherlock of course I like you, I love , yes." I cry, tears of joy falling down my still burning cheek. He slides it onto my finger of my outstretched hand and stands up to embrace me, not holding back any passion in kissing me.

" Thank you." He says in between breathless kisses, and then hauls me over his shoulder in a fireman hold, carrying me down the hall.

" You fond of this blanket? He asks, though I was upside down and facing his back, but before I can answer he takes it off, leaving me simply lying over him in my underwear. I squeal and giggle, and then he slaps me hard on the bum, only making me laugh more and slap his back.

" Oh you're in for it!" He growls playfully, stepping through into his room, both of us in utter domestic ecstasy.

I wake up sore, the sun streaming through the blinds wakeing me to the real world, the world of Moriarty and his games. I groan as I think of what's coming, and Sherlock instantly shuffles over to my side of the bed.

" What is it?" He mumbles sleepily.

" Why can't things always be this simple and happy?" I sigh, thinking of our night together.

" Because then we'd get bored." He replies, and I laugh because it was true. The calm is broken by the sound of someone entering Sherlocks flat, followed by the noise of John calling Sherlocks name.

" Sherlock, I'm sorry to interuptt the happy couple, but you need to help me." We hear, and we both turn to each other, recognizing the hurt in his voice. Sherlock stands and pulls on his clothes, and I put leggings and one of Sherlock's shirts on in a rush. We step out to see John, looking awful and panicky.

" John, what is it?" Sherlock asks, furrowing his brows as John leads us into the main room.

" Mary- she's gone." He says, his voice breaking. Just then, my phone starts ringing and John and Sherlock glare at me for timing, even though Sherlock was one to talk.

" I'm sorry, but this could be related." I say slowly, as I recognize the number. I open the text and read it out loud.

" Turn on the telly." I read, confused. John doesn't hesitate and picks up the remote, as all of us turn to the screen. It was him, videoing from some unknown place, it looked like an abandoned hospital.

" Happy Mary Morstans Labour day! Yes that's right, the little one will soon be on it's way." He says, eerily stepping down the darkened corridor in front of the camera. He then strides over to a bed covered by a curtain and unveils it, revealing Mary lieing there, strapped down. I gasp, holding my hand to my mouth as Moriarty takes out a pill and holds it up to the camera.

" See this little thing here? This is going to tear it all down- yes that's right." He sneers, and forces Mary to eat it despite her protests. Her cries make me feel as though I was being stabbed. " Now Mary and Baby Watson will die. Happy ending! But wait, is it? The twist is there are two antidotes, one will save Mary's life, the other the baby's life, and they're completely identical! All you need to do now to save a life, is find them and choose the right one, whichever that might be. Good luck in your 12 hours!" He finishes and the screen goes black.

" No- No , no, no. Please, god NO!" John cries, looking helpless. " He's forcing me to lose my wife or my daughter- how could a human-"

" He's not human John, he's insane beyond all of us. We don't have much time- we need to move, you and Sherlock go to find one, I'll find the other." I say, trying to remain calm.

" Well how the bloody hell are we supposed to know where the antidote is?! Jesus…" John looks around, as if hoping the antidote would fall out of thin air.

" I think I've figured it out, who was the best person at keeping something protected? Beyond all means? Irene Adler, go to her house. I'll track the other one down." I reply, getting my stuff together.

" Sherlock will you please say something!" John exclaims at Sherlock, who had frozen since seeing the message, staring at some oblivious spot in the corner of the room.

" I'm so sorry John." Sherlock says, still in shock.

" Not yet you're not, we need to move if we're to save one life today, I can't just stand here and cry and lose both of them!" John shouts.

" It's me who should be sorry, he's doing this against me." I say.

" But our engagement- perhaps it provoked this." Sherlock said, and I could see the doubt stirring within him and I knew I had to keep him with me.

" Sherlock, he's mad. He would have done that before this. Now go, I'll be fine." I say, and soon the two are out the door, after John's hasty congratulations of our engagement, his mind elsewhere. I stand still for a moment- trying not to scream. How could he do this, this was beyond evil, why to John, why do this to him when it was my battle?

Soon I track down Danny, the third Holmes brother, acting on my hunch. In the middle of London we meet, him standing in a leather jacket smoking, obviously picking up the trait of the Holmes.

" Ah, so you finally gave in?" He teased.

" Shut up. Now isn't the time- I need you help tracking down something- you're good at that right?" I ask.

" Sure, I wasn't hired by MI6 for nothing, who do you need me to track?" He asks.

" Not who, an antidote, it's somewhere in London, a complex map but I'm sure you can riddle it out." I say, handing him an image I was sent by Moriarty as a clue to where one of the antidotes were.

It takes hours of decoding- Jim had certainly gone to great lengths to make it complicated. We end up outside St. Barts with the help of the map.

" It must be here, with someone." He says, looking up at the building.

" Molly Hooper." I whisper, and run inside, him following after. I burst into the lab and see it there- an exact replica of the pill Moriarty fed Mary- so it must be the antidote.

" Lyra- oh my god." Molly says, but I grab it quickly, realising I had under half an hour left to find the abandoned hospital.

" Sorry Molly, got to run!" I say, and head out the other door.

" No- that way's closed, the whole wards shut off for repairs!" She shouts and I still, realizing it was here. Moriarty and Mary were here, in that same ward, I knew I recognized it. I run up and embrace Molly in a hug, kissing her on the cheek.

" Oh thank you!" I exclaim, running out to leave her standing confused about what to be thanked for. I get out my phone and ring Sherlock, ecstatic that victory was so close.

" Sherlock- they're at Barts. I'm there now with the antidote- did you?" I ask, breathless from sprinting.

" Lyra- Irene had it you were right. Sherlock replies. " We're at Barts too."

"This is brilliant, we have both. We can save both of them! I shout.

" I know- we just need to give them to her. He says, just as I wrench the door to the closed off ward, and the eeriness makes me hang up. I then see them stood across from me in the dark, moonlit room. Moriarty then steps out, dressed up in a doctors uniform.

" Every woman likes a man in uniform, right Lyra?" He laughs, and I stride over, seeing Mary in the bed at the side, fully in labour now, John by her side whilst Irene and Sherlock stand opposite with the antidote.

" I wouldn't go shoving both those antidotes down her throat just yet pumpkins. You see, the brilliance is, you think by using both antidotes you can save them both, when in fact it will create an even worse reaction- both of them will die." He replies in a dull manner, and John's head picks up, fury in his eyes I had never seen before.

"You're telling me I have to choose between saving them?" He says, and Moriarty nods, looking falsely guilty. " I'll kill you. I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!" John roars and launches himself at Moriarty, but then Sebastian steps round the corner and aims his gun at him, making him back away.

" Seb…" I whimper, but he won't look at me in the eye. The increasing tension is broken by Mary's screams of pain in unattended labour.

" Better choose quickly you little heroes, they're both identical but at least one will save a life, though you don't know which of course." Moriarty continues, raising his eyebrows at us with Sebastian at his side. Sherlock holds both antidotes in front of him, eyes flickering between the two.

"Oh my god- no please, this can't be happening. I can't be losing them. " John breaks down and holds onto me for support, shaking with sorrow and I myself find it hard not to lose control. " Please Lyra, they're both identical, either way I will lose one of them, just choose, for me."

" I can't-" I start, but John looks into me with such desperation I have no choice. I walk up to Sherlock and we both hold out the two antidotes. I scan them both, concluding all the information as Moriarty overlooks. Two antidotes, when both given to Mary will kill her and the baby, but using just one of them will save one of their lives, though we won't know which.

" Sherlock, in the study in pink,you had to choose between two pills, can't you?" I ask, buthe shakes his head weakly.

" I didn't know which one was the poison then, I really didn't." He confesses, and I stare down, Mary's pained screams urging me to choose quickly. I hesitate- and then choose the one Sherlock had, and Irene looks on at her posession, waiting for the outcome. I walk over to Mary and Jim follows behind me. I lean over , open the pill bottle and outstretch my hand to feed it to her- I was either about to kill her or the unborn baby.

Jim leans over to me and urges me on, his voice dripping with evil delight. " You can do it, go on."

I pop the pill in Marys mouth- and hold my breath, counting the seconds till one of them would die.


	26. Chapter 26

I sat on the third row of the church bench, listening to the hymn and pretending to sing along, my voice was really too hoarse from crying to try. It was a quiet funeral, just close friends, and some enemies too. My gaze landed on the end of the aisle, where the coffin was. I tried hard to keep it together- for them, I had put on my smartest black clothes, but I so wanted it all not to be real, why did it have to happen, why because of me, were other people paying the price?

The service wandered out the doors of the church afterwards, and followed the vicar to the burial. I watched as John helped to carry it in honour, and soon the brown earth covered them up forever. As I watched the vicar say the prayer, I thought back onto that day, and what it had meant.

The pill had just gone on Mary's tongue, but she was shaking her head, crying. "I can't swallow it." She whimpered.

"Mary- you have to or both of you will die. I'm so sorry." I said, and then bent my head into her lap and broke down myself- this was torture beyond means. "Please." I begged her, and looked up to see her bravely swallow the antidote. Moriarty watched over with glee, waiting for one of them to die. Mary then cried out loud and my blood froze, was it her?

"The baby's coming." She cries, and scrunches up her face. I look about, desperate for help.

"Looks like it'll be a stillborn, good for Mary though right?" Moriarty said ,amusement in his tone. That's when Irene stepped in, grabbing John by the arm and taking him over to Mary.

"We need to deliver it- now. John, you're a doctor, I'm a woman, so we'll do it. "I watched as she took charge, and then looked away as it started. I stood back as Irene stayed next to Mary, wiping her head and soothing her whilst John delivered his daughter through his tears. I didn't know how I felt, I had killed their daughter, but not Mary. Was either better than the other? Then, all heads turned as we heard a baby cry. John breathed out and held it in his arms.

"She's alive, she's okay." He said, and then I took my jacket off, offering John to wrap her in it, the living daughter Watson. Once it was all done, we turned to Moriarty, who looked aghast.

"I don't understand- she should be dead." He whispered.

"Maybe you should do your own dirty work next time, Jim." Sebastian then said, and to shock us all, pointed his gun from us to him.

"You faked the pills?!" Moriarty roared.

"You put me in jail, I found out. You couldn't bear for me to have a friend, Lyra, and you thought I would lose my touch." He said, anger boiling up. I breathed out, no one was going to die, and everything was okay. Sebastian then dropped his gun, and stood beside me, facing Jim, choosing a side. "You lose Jim, I won't do it anymore."

"I see… I guess we'll have a change of plan." Moriarty then drew out his own gun from his pocket and pointed it at Sherlock, who remained impassive. "You come back with me Sebastian, or Lyra will never forgive you for Sherlock's death." He smiled; Sebastian still had his gun aimed at him.

"You shoot him and I'll shoot you Jim, you'll die for real this time." Sebastian said, I could sense the hurt in his eyes, he was leaving his best friend for me, and now Sherlock was in danger too. Irene and Mary, holding the baby girl to the side watched in horror as the gunpoint continued, stretching on and on in a matter of mere seconds.

I snapped back to the present day, the funeral. The people had dispersed back up to the building for drinks, but I had stayed behind, looking at the gravestone. Just as I was wiping away a tear John came up behind me.

"No one blames you Lyra, you know that." He assured me, and I hugged him tightly, sniffling into his shoulder.

"I know, but I can't stop blaming myself." I whimpered, afraid I would never be happy again. John pulled away and held my at arms length, looking right into me.

"He was a great man, for what he did." He said, and I knew he meant it. He wrapped his arm around my shaking shoulder and stood with me in front of the grave as I wept and thought of his last moments of being alive.

Moriarty had become a different person, no longer obsessed with Sherlock- he wanted him gone and he wanted me to be miserable again. I looked at Sherlock, who was avoiding my stare, but I could see his fear- he knew Moriarty was prepared to be the only mastermind in the lonely world. I then realised what I had to do, to save Sherlock.

"Jim." I stated, and all heads turned to me, but neither Moriarty nor Sebastian dropped their guns. "Jim, please don't do this. I'll come back, I want to come back. I want me, you and Sebastian back. You especially." I said, stepping forward towards him, as he examined me carefully, his dark eyes shielding a storm. I couldn't bear to look at Sherlock now- I wasn't sure if he'd know whether or not I was lying.

"I knew you would, you know why? Because I'm who you truly belong with, and you know that, don't you?" He said, and stretched out his hand to touch my face delicately, then grabbed my jaw aggressively. "Don't you?" He repeated.

"Yes." I murmured, preparing myself to leave Sherlock, in order to go back to the darkness, to save him.

"I'm afraid I'll need a little proof Lyra." Jim said, and his eyes commanded me. I lent up and placed my hands round his neck, and kissed him. He put one hand in my hair to twist my head and kissed me back and dominates me. Just before I lost my breath he pulled away, and then it all happened in a matter of a second. He drew his gun back to Sherlock, smiling.

"No need for you now, is there?" He smiled, and all bodies in the room stepped forward, all eyes panicked, fear stricken. Then, Sebastian hauled himself in front of him just as Jim shot the bullet. It hit him in the chest, a perfect shot. He fell to the floor, his white t shirt quickly reddening, and soon he was soaked. Moriarty dropped to his knees in despair and watched as I crawled to Sebastian and held him in my arms, propping his head up with my hands.

"No, Seb, come on we just need to get you out of this floor, we're in the hospital." I panic, wiping his wet hair out his face, searching his eyes for some sort of hope.

"No, I'm ready." He whispered, and a faint of a smile played on his lips. Moriarty drew closer, touching Sebastian's bloody t shirt and then scrunching the material up in his hands. He put his face on his chest and his body shook.

"Sebastian you can't just, leave me you can't." I whimpered.

"Goodbye Lyra, I hope you get what you want." He said to me, and then weakly looked down at Jim, still buried in his chest. " Jim, it's okay, I forgive you. Let it go, let her go."

Then, his eyes rolled back and I spluttered, unable to register it. I closed his eyes and cried loudly, holding him even closer to my body, rocking him like my own child. Jim was even more crazed, holding onto him as if trying to revive his soul. Sherlock's hand was on my shoulder but I wouldn't move, I wouldn't leave him. He had died for me; he knew I couldn't live without Sherlock. He was my best friend, and now he was gone.

"No!" I screamed and wailed, until we were all found in the abandoned floor. First the staff, then the police. Sherlock tore me from Sebastian's limp body as we were taken out, and just as I looked back, before the police entered, I watched Moriarty about to disappear before he was caught. He looked back and caught my eye, in Sherlock's arms. He was asking me if any part of what I said was true with his eyes, so I nimbly nodded, telling him there was a part of me that loved him, that he wasn't completely alone now that he didn't have Sebastian. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't break him so far that he would burn the world down in his loneliness.

In the present, I sensed Sherlock behind me and John. I turned around and gave him a weak smile, and then he stood next to me after pecking me on the cheek. He had been so distant the past couple of days, knowing I was best left alone when mourning. But a part of me sensed he was still shaken by mine and Jim's kiss, and what I had said to him. But I was so happy he was alive, he just had to know that I loved him, only him. I turned back to the gravestone and Sherlock stepped towards it- laying down flowers below the engraving.

"R.I.P Sebastian Moran."

We joined the funeral drinks reluctantly, but I found myself able to cope surrounded by just Sherlock, Mary, John and Effy.

"John told me the name, said you used it as your disguise. I always liked Elizabeth but people always have stupid nicknames for it, Effy is lovely, I think it suits her." Mary nattered, looking down at her precious, alive daughter. I smiled, she was alive because of Sebastian, and many of us were alive because of that man. Though they never really knew him, I could tell they had their reasons to attend the funeral, even though Sherlock did only come for the reception as I asked him to, not wanting him to see me cry. I smiled down at the baby girl, she was beautiful, her skin glowed and her eyes were so big and wondrous. Sherlock pulled me in, happy himself in the presence of the innocent one.

" You're not getting all mother type on me now are you?" He asked, grinning at me.

"I'm not that predictable am I? Let's get the wedding bit over with first." I replied, ruffling my hand through his hair. I watched him look back at the baby in wonder, and I saw him changing. Perhaps me and him would have a child of our own one day, though definitely not for the next five years or so. There was so much to do, and we weren't sure when our next challenge would be, if Moriarty was ever going to come back from mourning Sebastian or anything.

The night progressed with sentimental music that Sebastian would have hated and drinks to wash the pain away. I looked around and saw the majority of the people there were my friends, who barely knew Sebastian, they were simply aware of his great sacrifice. I smiled at them all, they were all my friends. I watched Greg Lestrade sipping a lager quietly in the corner, whilst Donavon and Anderson were chatting next to the bar, Mrs Hudson was busting her hip to everyones amusement, the five of us were sat on a table and then I saw Molly Hooper leave through the back door. I frowned; I wonder if something could be up?

"Just going for some air." I said to Sherlock, standing up and following her out into the patio. I could hear her before I could see her, and stayed hidden round the corner, unsure of whether or not to say something. I then heard a second voice and almost gasped , it was his voice.

"She stole your man, you don't deserve that. Just think about my offer, okay?" I hear him say to her, and as I peer around the corner I see him standing over her, he pecks her on the cheek which she flinches at and then disappears again. I watch as Molly stands helpless, looking panic stricken. I was torn- would I ask her what was going on, or wait to see? I back away, going back into the function room, not wanting to think about it. Guilt consumed me, had I stole Molly's man, was I a bad friend? Sherlock saw me frowning across the dance floor and came up to me.

" Lyra, what's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

"Nothing, I was just thinking, when are we going to get married?" I smile and he laughs.

"I was thinking as soon as possible, and perhaps then a vacation, would you like that?"

I nod at him, imagining places like Paris, or Venice. But my mind wandered back to what I had just witnessed, what deal was Moriarty offering Molly? I looked out the window and made out in the distance him kneeled before his grave in the graveyard, and quickly averted my stare.

" Lyra, about what happened in the hospital, with Moriarty-" Sherlock started, but I put my finger to his lips.

"It meant nothing; I'm in love with you Sherlock Holmes, sociopath tendencies and all." I say, and lean up to kiss him.

"I love you too." He says back, eyes twinkling.

We left the funeral party in the same cab, I had decided not to tell Sherlock about what I witnessed with Molly and Jim, I was still figuring it out myself. Surely Molly knew not to be used again? We arrived at Baker Street and made our way upstairs quietly, the glooms of the funeral reawakening after the drinks wearied off. Sherlock sits down in his chair and I watch him think, putting his hands together. I stand in front of him till he gives in with a sigh, and let's me cuddle into his lap.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask softly whilst playing with his hair.

"Wedding plans, boring." He sighs, but looking at him made me know he can't hide.

"The kiss meant nothing Sherlock, it was to save you, now please forget about it." I say, and he looks at me as though astounded I can read his mind, or that he was becoming a tiny bit predictable.

"I like my competition to be of the mind, Lyra, not of the heart." He replies, and I pull back, offended.

"There is no competition Sherlock, you're acting paranoid. Don't start again." I mutter and he continues to hold me, rocking me gently.

"You're right, you're always right." He says, as if trying to comprehend the fact. Soon we are in bed, Sherlock was still too shy to make any sort of move on me in case it was too soon. I wasn't sure if I'd ever get over Sebastians death, nor was I sure if Jim would. I looked up at the moon through the window and I knew he'd be looking up at it too- and the distance put between us both through the years of torment and betrayal was banished, and our broken hearts were looking for some alter-reality as well. I turned away to face a sound asleep Sherlock and stroked his arm lightly, thinking of our wedding, of our future. I didn't want to risk any more lives, I almost risked his, could we really have a family, could I give up the dangerous life? I then felt an odd presence in the room, and though I may have looked mad, I convinced myself for a second he was there, his ghost, or spirit or something.

"Thank you Seb." I whisper to myself, and then the weird atmosphere dropped. I rolled over, not knowing if I was going crazy or if I was just mourning beyond compare.

Moriartys POV "

" I won't betray my friends, let me go." She said, and I rolled my eyes, this was too tedious for this time at night. I looked back at Molly Hooper, two of my newly appointed gun men had their pistols aimed at her, keeping her in her place. Together they barely made a start on Sebastian, but they'd have to do.

" Aren't you angry, Molly? Lyra just took your man like that; you knew he belonged with you." I sneered at her, looming out her insecurities.

"I'm not, it's you that's jealous, Lyra doesn't love you anymore." Molly stuttered back at me, and I rolled my head on my shoulders- a habit Sebastian had told me to break, telling me I'd ruin my neck.

" Oh, we'll see. Very well, until you agree to work with me- you'll be kept here." I drawl, and the men take her out, kicking and screaming. She really wasn't someone I had hoped to be having to use in another one of my schemes, but all minds have to compromise. I was sure she had a hopeless fantasy her and Sherlock could be together, so it made perfect sense to use that to be advantage. I look up at the moon and wonder, if I'd ever restore the London I left two years ago, how to fix all the damage that has been done to my world. No Lyra, now no Sebastian, I was alone. But soon, she would be too.


	27. Chapter 27

Lyras POV

I kick my legs, desperately trying to reach the surface of the water. My lungs were screaming for air, but my mind was unfocused, too panicked to concentrate on survival. His hands clasp around me, and drag me under, the sunlight bounces off the water became so distant I was soon swallowed in darkness. This was where there was only noise, where my sight became useless in trying to create fear, all he had was my ears attention. It was the rhymes, the horrible nursery rhymes, twisted into something evil and hateful.

Lyra, Lyra, professes her love on a call

Sherlock, Sherlock had a great fall

But now she has broken all hearts of men

It is time for Lyra to fall again.

I wake up gasping, wrangled in moist bed sheets. Sitting up, I drag my palm across my forehead, wiping off the sweat. Another one, when will the nightmares end? I realise Sherlock isn't next to me so set off to find him. I wrap one of his dressing gowns around me and wander into the living room. I see him standing straight, looking at his wall of clues, photos and evidence stitched together against the wallpaper. I then notice Effy, the baby strapped to his chest.

" Is she helping you?" I remark, and I laugh as he cocks his brow at me.

" Someone had to get up when she was wailing, you were evidently too sleepy to even notice." He replied sardonically. He had been stressed ever since the funeral, so anxious of where Moriarty was, what he was doing.

" Sorry, I'm shit at this stuff." I say, unsure of whether to tell him of my dream.

" Yes well, John and Mary will be back soon and then our babysitting duties are over." Sherlock says, stepping closer to the wall. I watch his eyes dart about, trying to piece together the pieces. But what pieces? We both knew nothing.

" Come back to bed, nothings going to happen between now and the morning." I soothe, stroking his arm. My eyes wander to the wall, the picture of Moriarty from his break in at the Tower of London all those years ago on Sherlocks copy of the Daily Mail stands out. I look away, unable to bear it.

" I don't like not knowing." Sherlock bitterly states, our peaceful last weeks were killing him, he needed something. I don't reply this time, I simply walk away and let him do the thinking. I watch the clock tick, going past the 4am mark. This was tedious. The silence was so thick, right up until we heard the doorbell. Me and Sherlock glance at each other in surprise.

" MARRDAR" Effy garbled. Sherlock looked down at her in astonishment and I froze, not knowing whether to laugh or despair.

" Her first word was murder." I exclaimed. But Sherlock's shy laughter was interrupted by Mrs Hudson opening the door, followed by Lestrade.

" Oh I knew you two were up. " She said, bustling in. " What's this all about?"

" Lyra Harley, I'm afraid you're under arrest." Greg ordered. Sherlock looked at him as if he had gone mad, whilst my eyes glanced over to the flashing police lights outside.

" For what?" Sherlock scoffed.

" Murder of Jane and Ben Harley." The D.I. stated plainly. My heart started to beat faster, and a lump in the back of my throat formed. I looked to Sherlock, and he was just as lost. He couldn't defend me, he knew it was true, all those years ago, but why now?

" You can't take her now, Lestrade, you know what Lyra's done for us, for you." Sherlock insists, towering over him, though the baby strapped to his chest made him look a little less dominating.

" It's okay, Sherlock. I'll go." I murmur, and hold my hands out to Lestrade who handcuffs them.

" I'm sorry, our source gave us undeniable evidence." Greg says softly, he was just doing his job. I look at Effy, she was unaware of what was going on, simply kicking her legs joyfully. But as I walked away I saw her start to panic, and then she wailed loudly, and wouldn't stop. Sherlock just stood- frozen by his own incapability to stop this from happening. We both knew who was behind this, who had dug the dirt that was buried decades ago.

I was soon behind bars, and out of my pyjamas and into a prison uniform. This was humiliating, surely someone could do something. Mycroft? I sit forward on my cell bench, rubbing my forehead. I hated silence, and for a reason. I had killed them in silence. I was only a child, I had given them their sleeping pills, tampered them, and then woke up with them dead. A silent death of tranquillity. So I hummed, whistled, anything to drone the numb silence out. After a couple of hours I was murmuring the words.

" Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of posies."

" And we all fall down." The security guard finishes, and I see him unlocking the door.

" Come on, visitor time." He says to me, and I follow him along with the rest of the inmates, itching to see Sherlock. But when I'm taken into the room it's not Sherlock there, it's Moriarty. I sit across from him, just staring, a protective wall between us. He picks up the phone and points at it obviously, so I pick up mine to hear him.

" Hello Lyra." He grins, whilst I just look at him with dead eyes. " I have to admit, you've looked better."

" Why are you here, Jim? Shouldn't you be off scheming whatevers coming next." I ask, tilting my head to examine him. He looked different, he wasn't in a suit, he was in jeans, a t shirt and a blazer and he was clean shaven.

" I'm here to offer you a deal." He replies, looking into me. " Only I can get you out this charge Lyra, only I have the evidence that can return you to Sherlock."

" You're the one that's put me in here, why would you want me out?" I reply coldly.

" I didn't, that's the trick. You'll figure it out sooner or later who did though." He says, and as I lean forward he does the same. " Now I've got your attention, I'll tell you I currently have evidence in the form of our little friend Dom."

" Where is he?!" I shout, only to remember where I am and recover quickly by leaning down, embarrassed as the guards watch over.

" Clever." Jim remarks sarcastically. " I haven't hurt him at all, I simply have him under my wing as evidence to claim you did not kill your parents when you were 12. He knows exactly what to say because of me, for your trial next week." Jim whispers.

" My trial?" I question, frowning, how did he know the date and not me?

" Oh yeah, it's caused quite a sensation." Jim says, getting out a copy of the sun. I read the headline " REICHENBACH HERO'S PSYCHOPATH FIANCEE ON TRAIL FOR MURDER." My mouth drops open, this was going to ruin Sherlock.

" Not just your life on the line, Sherlock's too, seeing as his life is his work. Doubt he'd get many cases once his fiancée's proven guilty." Jim murmurs, reading it too.

" Who sold the story?" I ask.

" You'll figure it out, Lyra. Now, do you want my help or not? Let my men defend you at the trial." Jim continues, his eyes feverish, he had been waiting for this for a long time.

" And for you? What do you get?" I inquire, dreading the answer.

" Something to do, that's my part of the bargain. It's been boring since..." He trails off, and I see he's thinking about Seb. I press my ear closer to the phone.

" I saw you in the graveyard on his funeral." I say softly.

" I know." He replies, and that's when the bell rings, and soon me and the other inmates were led away. I glance once more at Moriarty, looking like a shell of a man.

Sherlocks POV

" SHUT UP NOW!" I bellow, standing in front of Effy in her high chair in the living room. I pace in front of her, trying to think of anything to get her to stop crying. She hadn't stopped since Lyra was taken away from me. I couldn't think with all the noise she was making, how was I going to save my fiancée with this? Just at that moment John and Mary walk in, John holding a copy of the Daily Mail.

" MURDEROUS FIANCEE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES TO GO ON TRAIL PRIOR TO WEDDING" John reads out the headline, aghast and confused. I point over to the numerous newspapers I had acquired, each deadline as misled as the next.

" Moriarty is behind this." I mutter, as Mary picks up Effy in an attempt to soothe her.

" Jesus, Sherlock what's made her like this?" She exclaims, bobbing the baby up and down.

" She was silent until Lestrade arrested Lyra." I reply, and turn with a spin to sit in my chair, tapping my feet continuously. " Nice holiday?" I smile, with a hint of sarcasm.

" Yeah it was fine- until we heard. Sherlock, how bad is this? I mean, she did do it, what if she's in there for a long time?" John says, looking down at me seriously.

" I DON'T KNOW JOHN!" I shout, then recover myself. " They won't let me defend her because she's my fiancée, that's the problem. And apparently, she already has someone defending her."

" Have you spoken to her?" John insists.

" I tried, apparently she's been put in a high security cell after getting into a fight with an inmate over a packet of cigarettes." I reply bluntly, smiling at the end at the thought of Lyra doing all that for a nicotine fix, so like me. It had been 5 days since the arrest, only 2 to go till her trial at the Old Bailey. John and Mary stay to help prepare, trying to figure out Moriartys path in this as much as we could, we all knew it had to be him.

John then exclaims over the baby's consistent cries. " This is just like last time Sherlock, the media coverage, the trail, your reputation in danger." I look up, obviously I had made the link before, but I hadn't thought of the ending. " You don't think he'd do the same thing again?" John continues. I see the fear in his eyes, his pain of loss coming back.

" I could always fake my death twice." I scoff, and John looks away, disappointed in me for the joke.

" Don't. Okay? Because we both know you couldn't." He then looks back at me, and that disbelieving smile was on his face, the one that appeared only when he was truly angry. I hadn't seen it since we found out Mary's real identity. I look away, I knew if I was to face death again, I might not be able to figure it out. I close my eyes, and enter my mind palace.

Walking through the lit corridors, I open the door on the right, and enter my mind palace's illusion of Molly's lab. This memory- the first time I saw Lyra, and Moriarty. Lyra was stood in the corner, whilst Moriarty was pretending to be ' Jim from IT'. I walk around the figures, and the past Lyra transforms into the present to help me.

" So, what's the plan Sherlock?" She asks, her voice soothing me, guiding me to an answer. She watches me pace around the lab.

" You're going to go on trial, it will likely be stretched out as it is a complicated case, as it will be heavily covered by the media. Depending on your defendant, you could spent years in jail, forget me, go insane again and I'd lose...everything." I say, breathing to keep myself calm, focused.

" Don't let cynicism cloud your focus, Sherlock. I might have the best defendant possible. We could be married within the month. Now, think. Our journey so far, from when you first saw me in this room to the last, when I was being led away in handcuffs." Lyra says, watching me like a hawk. I unfreeze Jim in my mind, and he becomes an active voice. I pass him as he stands over the past versions of myself, John and Mary.

" You know it could end for real this time Sherlock, perhaps it is time for Lyra to fall." He drawls hauntingly and I look over at him, then at Lyra who shakes her head.

" I'm strong Sherlock, I can face him myself." She replies, but there is doubt in her eyes. I sigh, if only I could have the real two in the room, then get some answers I didn't already know. Then, my subconscious mind works over me, and Molly is activated, and offers a piece of information I thought I had forgotten.

" Dom is the only one who knew Lyra when she killed them." She says, and John's voice from outside my mind palace drags me out, back into reality.

" Sherlock, are you listening to me?" I hear him say, but I simply get up out of my chair, grabbing my coat. " Sherlock where are you going?! He shouts.

" Moriarty will have Dom imprisoned, as he can testify against Lyra as he knew her. That must be his plan, he can't let anything slip. So we find Dom, and use him to free Lyra." I say, exasperated I had not realized this before. I see John then look up at Mary and grab his coat. But just as we are about to leave Mary stops us.

" Sherlock, Moriarty has Dom." She says, sounding quite distraught.

" Yes, I know." I say impatiently, do people ever listen?

" No, you don't know. He is using Dom to defend Lyra too, he has beaten you to it." She says. I close the door, and step slowly towards her, rage building up inside, engulfing my insides in flames.

" How do you know? You've been in contact with your old employer, Mary?" I snare at her, whilst John looks equally as annoyed.

" It was at Sebastians funeral. I went down to his grave during the party, after all he did save my life, I wanted to pay my respects in private. He was there too, and I was so afraid. But he was broken, he was empty. I asked what he was going to do and he said he was going to bring down Lyra with all the hearts she broke." She rambles and my eyes widen.

" All the hearts she broke?" I repeat.

" She broke Dom's didn't she? He loved her and he had to move on when you two got engaged. I linked it together after that, he's going to use Dom to break Lyra, but he wouldn't want her in prison, he wants her to be with him. So he will need her support, and how does she get that support? By using Dom on her side." Mary analyses, clearly she had spent some time piecing this all together. I cursed myself for missing so much. I ruffle my hair, trying to get it all in my own head. John merely just stands aghast at how his wife again, knew more than the rest of us. We all sit down, now that we knew the plan, we could work against him.

I could set her free, but I had to be sure by doing that, she would come back to me.

I couldn't lose her.


	28. Chapter 28

Lyras POV

I ascend the stairs of the court, keeping my chin high as I appear in front of my peers. I glance to the stands, Moriarty was sat in disguise as John and Sherlock were sat a few seats away from him. My eyes stay on Sherlock, who was sat on the edge of his seat, looking strained and tired. I smiled weakly- I hadn't seen him for days and we couldn't even be close. I am taken to my stand and the session starts.

" Lyra Harley, you have been accused of murder of your parents during your teenage years, how do you plea?" The judge calls.

" Not guilty." I stammer, I was unsure if I was going to be able to take these painful memories, but I had to. Jim had told me to plea this, so that Dom could defend me as a witness. This all seemed so mismatched, I have murdered so many people, just the fact this wasn't for the government, it was for myself, it is a crime. The hypocrisy of it all was disgusting, the sooner Mycroft would do something the sooner I could have my wedding. The court went on as the unrigged jury assessed me as I stood tall in my smart black dress.

" We will now bring in your witness, Miss Harley." The judge announced after some questions, and I held my breath as my best friend in the whole world walked in, or tripped in rather. There was a ripple of laughs disguised as coughs in the stands which Dom ignored as he sat himself down in the witness box. He swore his oath of the truth ironically and did his part, not looking up the entire time to face me.

" Lyra was with me the night they died. We were only kids, just at the park." He started, and carried on this way. I watched him lie for me, he had come back to help me, to stop me from going to prison, so I could marry Sherlock. I glanced behind to see Moriarty leaning forward, watching the back of Sherlock's head. My mind went back to the last conversation we had, in my cell the day before.

" Do you understand Lyra?" He had asked, looking at me like a broken toy as my world was crumbling apart in my cell. " Either you plead guilty, and stay in prison. Or, you plea not guilty and you can have Dom to justify you. But, if you're free, you have to ucome with me. Not Sherlock, I mean can you really ruin his career? Marrying him in the eyes of the press won't go down well, the murderous spouse as they'd call you."

" He won't care." I bitterly remarked back.

" Oh, but he'll of given up everything for you, his work. Could you really live with that guilty, little Lyra? I doubt a disgraced man would make an entertaining husband. And I'd never bore you."

Tears streamed down my face as I nodded, accepting I had to go with Moriarty, in order to save Sherlock from betraying himself.

In the present, my mind whirred in the memory of that agreement. I shut myself out from the court, not wanting to hear Dom lying for me anymore. There was nothing for me outside of prison, only Moriartys ensnaring arms, another prison itself. How did he do this so easily? Why couldn't I have seen this coming? I realise I had to do something, I had to stop this. I thought of prison, I could break out of there perhaps, but could I ever escape Jim once he caught me in his web again?

" I plead guilty!" I shout, interrupting Dom, and the entire room goes silent as the judge eyes me quizzically. My breath catches as I look behind to see Sherlock and John looking down in horror, as Moriarty is already out the door. I mouth sorry to Sherlock, fighting back the lump in my throat. I see his exposure crumble, he was now shaking. From his view, this was me leaving him, wanting to be in prison rather than with him. Oh Sherlock, if only you knew. We'd be together because of this, it's the only way.

" Lyra, are you sure?" The judge asks, as Dom has finally looked up and is watching in disbelief.

" Yes." I stutter, and then I am taken away, dragged back down the stairs into ten years of imprisonment. The doors close behind me and I cry and cry, I did what I had to do, Sherlock just had to find a way to get me out.

" Get Mycroft." I whisper to myself, as if me and Sherlock had some telecommunication way of solving this disaster. I sit in the corner, thinking back on what I had done. I had betrayed Moriarty, I wouldn't go quietly, what was he going to do now? Sherlock thinks I have betrayed him, and then there was this mystery source. According to Moriarty, he did not give the murder case to the press or the government, so who was it? I then gasp as I remember the funeral night, Moriarty had been bribing Molly Hooper. I sit in anguish, surely, no? Would she do this? Why? I curl up even tighter, my stomach was in knots. I wasn't sure if I had made the right decision, what if I would never get out?

. .Bang. That was all little Lyra ever heard, as she sat on her bed reading crime novels. She rolled her eyes, her parents were always at it with each other. Could they not be so disgusting? If only they knew I had tampered with her contraception pills. They were so disappointed with their first child they were always extra careful to not make the same mistake again. Well, now they will get what was coming to them. Lyra heard them stop, and eventually sleep. In the middle of the night, she wandered into their room. Her mother, looking simply asleep was dead already. The dad was yet to be dealed with, so Lyra grabbed the pillow and held it over him, there was a struggle, some muffled screams, then silence. She sat on the end of the bed- just as she used to when she had a nightmare. That was the moment the little girl knew she wasn't like everyone else, she did not see life as sacred, everybody died, it was the way of life. And it was her way to bring it about for her own purpose.

I groan as I wake up, feeling as though I had just emerged out of some sort of movie like flashback. But I had been watching down on myself doing it, the recurring memory making my head pound. The light streaming in from the bars made my eyes sensitive, and I rolled over on the hard bed as I try to forget it. I remember what I had done and only groan louder, so angry at myself. Sherlock had to figure this out, he had to. But no, it had in fact been months since that day. There was nothing, no calls, no visits, no hope of escape or Mycroft's help. Where was he? Surely they must have realised, I had to do it? Perhaps I had been stupid, and only sold a decade of my life over paranoia. For now, all I could do was stay, stay and hope.

Moriartys POV

" I won't ask again Mr. Holmes, where is he?" I snare at Mycroft, who was sat across from me in his armchair looking disgruntled.

" I don't know where Sherlock is. Now, why don't we discuss why you've walked in here large as life when you're wanted?" He replies, cocking his head slightly and thinning his eyes at me.

" You won't arrest me, or your brother will never be found, and you won't get your top assassin out of prison." I say, leaning forward and pressing my palms together.

" Are we playing mother, Mr. Moriarty? Quite the little reunion maker." Mycroft says as he picks up his scotch, not breaking eye contact over the rim of the glass.

" No, I just want Sherlock, he can get Lyra out himself." I bitterly respond, thinking of that day all those months ago. I had been a wandering man since then, since Lyra turned the cards, thinking Sherlock would realise she wanted him to get her out of jail by force rather than being my prisoner. I had faced a rather angry Dominick that day, but he was now my partner, again, no Sebastian, but he would do. I exit Mycrofts townhouse quietly, with no sign of him trying to arrest me. Perhaps he wanted me to find Sherlock as he missed him, such brotherly compassion. I get in the back of my car, as Dominick sits on the other side, gazing out the window.

" Any leads?" He asks, turning around to look at me. I shake my head and he looks down, disappointed. We had been tracking down Sherlock ever since the court date, he had gone missing only a week after Lyra was sentenced to a decade. We get out the car in central London, walking down the street to brainstorm, or rather he was just chatting at me mindlessly. I had to say it was...ironic how we were now on one side. Only years ago there was me staging a fake suicide after thinking him and Lyra were lovers. We were stopped by a homeless man asking for a moment of our time, something which made me want to shoot him right there and then.

" Excuse me sir, any spare change?" He asked but I simply pushed past him. I heard Dom pause and then the sound of coins going into a cup made me turn around. Dom looked back awkwardly.

" What? You don't know what it's like for him." He says to me, I click my neck, wanting to break his for the cheek.

" I can tell you where he is now." The hobo said to Dom, which made us both freeze as he stood there with a cocky impression on his face. " Ahh got Mr. Moriartys attention now haven't I?" He laughed.

" How do you know my name?" I ask, stepping close to him, shrivelling up my nose at his odour.

" Seen your face on the paper, Sherlock Holmes arch nemesis. Speaking of Shezza, I know you're looking for him." He says and I grab him by his shirt, pushing him up against the building.

" How could you know?!" I spit into his face.

" Gone on a bit of a downward spiral, only saw him this morning as I was popping in for my fix. I think you can help him get back on his feet." He splutters out as I hold on to him. My eyes widen as I realise, and then I smile, and then I cannot contain my laughter.

" What's so funny?" Dom asks, looking confused. I turn sharply and he follows, leaving behind the hobo.

" Tell him The Wig says hi! " He shouts after us, but I'm too distracted to turn around. I get in the car and Dom does the same after catching up.

" He's back on drugs, thinking Lyra left him for prison has made him go back on the juice, of course!" I exclaim, slightly annoyed at myself for missing one of his key weaknesses. Dom just looks scared, months of work had led up this lead given to us by some random homeless man.

I storm into the drug house I had narrowed the search down to, and we enter the crumbling block of flats in our search. I pull out my gun, it felt dull but really I missed Sebastian being able to use it for me. We enter a pitch black room and Dom turns on his torch app on his phone, illuminating the corner where he lied hunched up, facing the peeling wallpaper. I bend down next to him, and turn him cautiously by his shoulder. He was a mess, the genius Sherlock looked almost as bad as the hobo on the street. His eyes wandered lazily until he looked at me, and then as he recognized me, he tried to make an attack. His arm flailed about helplessly and I caught it before it smacked me in the face. I didn't like using physical force, I preferred to challenge his brain, but clearly that was not in the best state at the time.

" Listen to me, Sherlock. Lyra did not choose prison to get out your engagement, okay? She did it because otherwise she would have had to go with me. Now, are you going to get out this stupid little downfall and get her back or light up another spliff?" I snarl into his ear as his eyes dart about wildly.

" Lyra..." He murmurs, sounding aghast. I turn to see Dom looking just as surprised, I had not actually told him I had blackmailed Lyra.

" It's no fun for me when my only equal is destroying his brain cells you junkie, so you make the decision." I add to Sherlock then let him go, then signal Dom for us to leave. Before we exit we hear Sherlock cry out.

" Why did you find me?" He says, and I pause in the doorway, but don't turn back.

" Because if she chose prison over me, she must really love you." I murmur, then finally leave.

Once home, I shut myself in my bedroom to lie down. This was what my life had amounted to, how one girl had complicated and destroyed everything. I rub my eyes as I pray myself back to when I had the control over my life and hers. When she was only a teenager. I smirk as I remember the first time we slept in the same bed, after I had realised she couldn't be controlled. I suppose I should have taken more action earlier. But now, my only option was simple. I had found Sherlock, the game was back on, and the ending was nearing.

I had to die for real this time and join Sebastian, but not without Lyra. And how was I to kill her without Sherlock freeing her from prison?

_Hey guys, so sorry that I've been lagging on updates but I've had such bad writers block, some reviews would really boost that;) Thanks for reading! _


	29. Chapter 29

Moriartys POV

I watched as Dom heaved Sherlock onto his chair in 221b Baker Street, feeling disgusted at my ' equal'. So doped up he could hardly speak, his eyes wavering as if looking for the stars, or someone.

" I have to hand it to you Sherlock, you're doing a great job saving your fiancée." I chuckle.

" Lyra...chose prison. Left me." He garbled, his head bobbing on his neck. I crane my own to examine him as Dom stood idle. I then wandered over to Sherlock's violin, placed on his desk. Picking it up gently, I put the instrument to my neck and starte to play. I sensed Sherlock turn, finally he was sobering up. I closed my eyes to the room, concentrating only on the sound. When I was done, I had Sherlocks attention.

" That was the piece I wrote for her." Sherlock commented.

" It's said that sounds can be the most powerful sense in nostalgia, other than smell." I reply, turning around to face him. " I stole it when I wanted her."

" Lyra smells like vanilla and raspberry... she uses a jel...thing." Sherlock grumbles, I roll my eyes at the stoner, going back into the relapse. Jesus, one sign of rejection and he's straight on the crack, did he have no self control? I bite my tongue as I remember, that's what Lyra did.

" So what do we do now?" Dom asked, breaking the silence. I stare down at a photo that had caught my eye on Sherlock's desk, it was one of her. It must have been taken whilst she was befriending Sherlock and John for me, she was only 18. Her smile was false and looked strained, as she is straddled next to their housekeeper, Mrs Hudson. I smirk, this was when she was under my control, when she was mine. Now it was here, as a mark of sentiment for Sherlock, and that made it tainted. I sneakily put the photo in my suit pocket, as if somehow the photo would become Lyra itself and be mine alone.

" Sherlock will free Lyra, once he sobers up. They'll become outlaws...then we strike them. Take them out of their defence zone of friends." I murmur, a certain John Watson playing on my mind. I look over at the now sleeping detective, wondering if he could give up his life for Lyra, after she gave up hers for him. Did I prefer the problem to be less easy than last time? Yes. But the complications being out of my control were infuriating. I glance over to Dom, his eyes filled with regret for ever getting involved in the first place, all for her. He thought he wanted revenge, but he wasn't sure he could follow through.

" You're not going to hurt her?" He asked anxiously, moving his foot about on the carpet.

" No, that'd be insane." I smile as I turn my back to him again, lying through my teeth. Oh the innocence of a college boy, still so immune to how I was insane enough to do just that. We left Sherlock to sober up, leaving behind a letter of advice in breaking Lyra out. I had calculated Sherlock's brain will have recovered enough to rescue Lyra, but not to figure out the next part of my plan.

Sherlocks POV

I wake up to John's anxious face close to mine- a little too close.

" John?!" I splutter, fully opening my eyes to see I was in my bed.

" Sherlock, who brought you back?" He asked, and as I readjusted my position I could see he was troubled. Then it all came shamefully back to me, yes I had messed up pretty badly.

" I can't remember." I grumble, rubbing my eyes. I internally scream at myself as I recall letting myself run away when things got difficult. Heroin had called when Lyra abandoned me for prison. For gods sake, this was humiliating, and now the second time John had found me drugged up.

" For christs sake Sherlock, no one knew where you were. We needed you." He sighs, and my eyes wander over to Mary and the baby standing behind John. He then gets out an envelope from his pocket and shoves it into my hands. " Instructions to help Lyra escape, I think he left them. Look, I don't know if you have some sort of plan but, do you know what that would mean?"

I pause, knowing he was asking another question entirely. Could I leave him?

" If me and Lyra have to go on the run, then that's what will happen. John, it doesn't mean we'll be gone forever. We'll just have to disappear for a while." I reply, trying not to show I was just as torn as he was. In a preferable world, we could go back to when Lyra was simpy a neighbour, and we just solved cases together. But she was all that mattered now, he had Mary, he had to understand. I watched closely as he inhaled through his nose, close his eyes briefly and then nod.

" Then go." He stated, and got up to let me get ready. As I stand my head becomes dizzy and I stumble, the drugs had not quite left my system.

" Sherlock- good luck." Mary calls, and I stand in the doorway, looking at the happy family. I was mixed between a jealousy that me and Lyra were too dangerous to ever be a part of this, but also grateful I wasn't bored. I could see it already in John, and could tell with me and Lyra gone he would go out of his mind bored. I consider the fact me and Lyra may not have the smoothest or shortest ride home, or if we ever could return to London as outlaws, so I hold my hand out to John. He laughs and then pulls me in tight, then whispers in my ear.

" Sherlock, you're coming back, okay?" He stammers, and I mumble my confirmation, not knowing if I was lying or not. I then hug Mary and peck the baby Effy on the head, and leave for Lyra.

" Pentoville Prison." I state to the taxi driver, and he takes me away from Baker Street. I watch as the night life of London whizzes by, the pumping heart of the city becoming dimmer to be, as if sending me off. Anxiety grips me for a moment, as I realise all I was leaving behind purely to save Lyra and be with her. I then remember why I had to, because none of this was worth it without her.

I show my ID at the security check of the prison, well I say my, Mycroft was yet to discover I had once again stolen his. I calculate the escape would take at least ten minutes, if we were lucky. There was a car waiting outside, courtesy of Mary's assassin links in the industry. I am taken to outside Lyras room, and hold myself still as the door is swung open by the guard. From the moment I saw her I wanted to feed her, as she looked like she had been starving herself from her protruding ribs under her top. I wanted to kneel down and hold her, but I had to keep my pretence as Mycroft believable, I doubt anyone would believe him and Lyra had any connection. Her head shifts and her eyes widen as she see's me standing there, and I widen mine to tell her not to blow my cover.

" Mycroft, what is it?" She asks, the sound of her voice reawakening my groggy, drug abused body.

" I'm here to take you into the government's hands, we want to ask you a few questions." I reply, holding my smirk.

" Hang on, you can't do that I'm afraid-" The security guard interrupts, but before he can do anymore Lyra uses her handcuffs to hold him around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

" I'm afraid Mycroft can do anything he wants." She sneers, and in that moment I saw a flicker of something evil in her, the snare reminding me of Moriarty's leers and inhumane freedom. She holds him until he is about to die, and then lets go to leave him struggling for breath on the floor. Me and her walk out casually side by side, eyes darting at anyone. We reach the car just as the ID timer runs out, and they finally catch on. We delve in and the driver scoots off as they come after us. Lyra doesn't hesitate to pull me into a passionate kiss, and I move my hands to hold onto her face tightly.

" Er, excuse me Mr. Holmes, but we have a slight problem." The driver says, and we turn away from each other to see police cars behind us. Then shots are fired, without any conflict from us.

" I don't have a gun." I splutter, thinking hard. Perhaps we could drive the car into a cemented corner in order to make-

" Here." Lyra stops my thoughts, handing my a handgun from under the seat. She rolls down the windows and begins to shoot back.

" Be careful-" I start, but see she is clearly enjoying herself.

" Oh Sherlock I've been in prison for months let me have this." She replies, a hint of humour in her voice. I smile at her, my crazy soon to be wife. The thought lingers- would we have to get married on the run under false names? She fires again and again, and I take the role up myself and join her, pointing my arm out the side of the car. I shoot the driver right in the chest, and it takes my brain some time to register this was my second killing. Lyra, on the other hand, had lost count by this time of her life. The car speeds through the outskirts of London until we lose or kill the persistent authorities. We arrive at the docks, where our boat was just about to leave. We didn't have time to think, we ran out the vehicle and jumped onto the moving boat. Landing with a thud onto the deck, Lyra begins to laugh hysterically.

" Oh Sherlock, thank you." She cries, the glee of freedom taking over her. This was where she looked her most beautiful, when she was smiling.

" I love you." I laugh back, and we lie facing up to the stars as we leave the questionable sailor to take us wherever. Instead of going inside the boat to sleep, we lie until dawn on the deck. I watch the sun rising over the sea as Lyra's hair tickles my neck, her head lying on my chest as her leg wraps around mine. Only when it was light did I realise the quality of our transport.

" We have a yacht." I mutter, and Lyra groans, tiredness taking over her.

" What did you say, sweetie?" She grumbles, turning her head to face away from the light.

" Did you just call me sweetie?" I chuckle and she snorts, disbelieving herself. She then lifts her head and I watch as her mouth drops. We then both look at our luxury yacht, courtesy of Mary.

" They must want us to be outlaws in luxury." Lyra comments and I nod in agreement.

" It's a little over the top, I think Mycroft might have something to do with it." I reply.

" Couldn't Mycroft had just gotten us off the hook, instead of us having to go on the run?" She questions, and I see doubt in her eyes.

" I think we should leave the government out of our lives after everything that's happened, don't you?" I suggest, and she nods weakly. I stand up and feel the heat radiating off my back, so I shrug my coat off my shoulders and move to the deck, looking out onto the blue sea as we speed across it. Perhaps leaving behind my career wasn't going to be so bad after all. But it all felt too good to be true. Lyra stands beside me as we look out on the rising sun, feeling the sense of escape within ourselves, we were truly free.

Lyras POV

It was day five on our luxury boat, and as I watched Sherlock make a fool of himself trying to learn from our sailor how to steer the boat, I thought we would never want to leave. We had gotten so comfortable, living in paradise, off the radar was everything it promised to be. I was concerned about where he had been the past months, and where Moriarty was. But I shiver in the heat, trying to repress the thoughts of danger. I didn't want anything to ruin this wonderful moment. I close my eyes and put my earphones in to listen to some Lana Del Rey.

" Cos you and I, we were born to die." I sing along quietly, tapping my feet as I lie in my black strappy bikini that was part of the boat package. I then feel the sun stop burning my pale skin and open my eyes to see Sherlock looking down at me.

" I think we should get you out the heat." He smirks, and then he bends down to kneel over me on the deck.

" Oh, you want to go inside?" I whisper tentatively, biting my lip. But before I can make a move, he grabs me and strides over the side of the deck as I struggle and scream, trying to get away as he simply laughs.

" Oh come on, it's not that bad." He says, and then makes the jump. I scream loudly as we fly off the side and hit the water. The surprising iciness hits me and I kick my legs fast to break out onto the surface. I swim over to Sherlock who is pulling his hair back out of his face. I try to dunk him under the water but I can barely move him and simple struggle as he laughs hysterically.

" Is this a massage?" He jokes, as I try to press him down. I stop and smile, knowing exactly what to do. He grabs my hips so that I'm hovering over him in the water, and I forcefully kiss him- making his head weak and go under immediately. He puts his hands up in protest and I laugh, letting him back up. He then carries me back on deck, but doesn't stop until we are in our private bedroom under the deck. He sets me down on the bed, not minding that we were both soaking. I lie on my side beside him as he fiddles with my bikini strap, and as soon as he took it off we were all over each other. We lie beside each other, exploring until Sherlock loses his control and moves to lie on top of him. He moves my salty hair out my face and looks down at my face and body in amazement.

" I don't want this to end." He confesses, smiling shyly and I touch his face softly, stroking the line of his cheekbones.

" Who says it has to?" I ask.

" You'd be happy, never going back to London?" He replies, surprised.

" For now, yes." I say, and he kisses me passionately, before taking me for the first time since before prison. Afterwards, we're both so sun-stroke and sex-beaten to speak, and I watch Sherlock sleep peacefully next to me. I myself was hot and bothered, and walked out onto the deck naked, letting the breeze kiss every inch of my flustered skin. I walk out to the side of the neck and look out onto the blackness, not knowing what was water and what was sky. There was something so mysterious and natural about the moment, and I feel like I can sense him. I genuinely felt on the verge of heaven, and sensed Sebastian as though he was looking down at me, though hopefully couldn't see me nude. I shyly start to speak, hoping he was somehow listening.

" Sebastian, he misses you so badly. Why did you have to die? I just wish... you were still here, but you're not." I whisper, crossing my arms across my chest. I then lean over the side, and reach my hand out to the dolphins swimming alongside the boat. I peer out and see red flashing lights in the distance, and squint to figure out what they were. The sound of the sailor coming up jumps me, and I pull on an overthrow before he see's me naked. I turn around and see him holding his head in distress, the white hair standing up on all ends.

" Jesus Christ- they're coming." He gasps, as I stand idle, confused.

" Sorry, who is it?" I ask him.

" I'm sorry Miss Harley, but they- they called me. They offered me money, they wanted to know-" He started, but I don't hesitate to grab him by the cuff of his top.

" Did you tell them we were here?!" I shout into his face as he cowers beneath me.

" Yes, Moriartys men." He confesses, and I let go as I feel the dream shatter. I turn around to watch the approaching boats, feeling painfully remorseful- we needed more time. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be the end, I thought we had made it. I stare out at the approaching boats, preparing myself to kill my first love, knowing he would never stop until I would stop him from hurting Sherlock. I climb up on to the edge and hold the rope, the wind blowing my hair as I welcome the threat. This was it, this was where one of had to die. I reach up for the bell, and ring it loudly to half alert Sherlock, and half warn Moriarty that his death wish was about to come true, no matter the cost, Sherlock had to live.


	30. Chapter 30

Sherlock's POV

" Oh god I'm so sorry- I'm so sorry Sherlock-" Lyra's voice of despair wakes me up, and I instantly heave myself up and open my bleary eyes. The sight that greets me was enough to knock me sick, we were far from our boat. Cramped in a box like space, we were inches away from each other and only a few slits of light allowed me to see Lyra looking at me in disbelief.

" You're awake, oh my god thank you. Thank you." She cried, and I didn't hesitate to put my hand on her face to wipe away her tears. Instead there was blood tricking down from her forehead.

" Are you okay?" I whisper, unsure of how serious her head injury was.

" I'm fine, you should see your head. I was so scared you had become a vegetable." She stammered, her hands trembling as they feel my jaw, trying to calm me herself.

" Could you still love me without my mind?" I joke, wanting so badly to hear her whimpers turn to a laugh. Instead she just smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

" Your looks could keep me faithful." She wittily replies, and then I hear her sharp intake of breath. " It's him, it's him."

" I know, but we'll find a way back home." I assure her, though my head was whirring as to how.

" Sherlock, we don't have a home. John's not coming to save you." She says, to my surprise. I stare out the box, did she think I needed John that badly? My thoughts obliterate when the lid is opened, and two scrawny hands pull Lyra out. She tries to cling onto me, but her hands slip away as she is taken screaming by the mystery arms. The box is then shut on me and I feel it getting picked up, and soon I am taken even further from Lyra. Then, the lid is opened and it is my turn to be hawled out, though it was dark I analysed the feel of the hands, young, soft, not been through particular hardship, male. This man puts me in shackles on the floor, and I wait until lights are flickered on, to see the face of the young Dom staring down at me.

" Dom-" I start, but he punches me in the face. He steps back as I recover, trying to hide his hand hurting himself.

" Tables have turned Sherlock, and isn't it so very entertaining?" The Irish voice appears in the stone room, and Moriarty enters into the light.

" I don't see any logic in his choice." I bitterly reply, and Dom crosses his arm across his chest and picks up his chin.

" A question of the heart, my dear. Hasn't this whole ride been just that? But I'm bored, it's time for Lyra to come home." Moriarty says as he comes closer and closer. He then bends down to examine my injuries. He then turns back to Dom.

" You can talk." He teases him, and the sentence was the exact same as what he said to John at the swimming pool so many years ago. Only this time, John wasn't there to try and tackle him, perhaps best as that failed.

" If Moriarty wants Lyra, why are you helping him?" I ask Dom, furrowing my eyebrows at the strange boy. He then kneels down to, and recites a speech as though he had practised it a million times.

" I know Lyra, Sherlock. She doesn't want us, you may not consider us similar, but we have that in common. She will get bored, and you will be left with nothing if you don't let her go."

I shake my head in frustration." You sound like a bloody fool, who taught you this crap, him?!" I shout, looking at Moriarty who was staring me out.

" You know it's the truth." Dom simply answers, stepping away from me. I splutter up blood, feeling nauseous on this god forsaken boat. Then, Moriarty grabs the back of my hair and forces me to look up at his phone screen.

" Feel like complying now, Sherlock?" He grins, and I stare in horror at the video. John, strapped to the side of the boat, shouting against the stormy sea as it repeatedly washes over his body.

" NO! He's going to die!" I bellow, this was real, this wasn't a game.

" Don't worry, we have someone on hand to take him in should he start to drown." Moriarty assures me in a menace hushed tone. John's 'guard' is revealed, and every cog in my mind whirrs at her. Molly Hooper.

Mollys POV

I wriggle from the inside cabin, which looked over where John was strapped to the side. Every wave makes me squirm and fidget, wanting desperately to stop this. To stop all of it. But he would thank me...he would thank me when we bring Sherlock back home.

That's why I had agreed to Moriarty. He is evil- he is a monster, but that danger about him made me realise, he would never stop. He would eventually kill Sherlock for Lyra, but by using John as bait to bring him home would end it all, all this darkness. John lies limply, exhausted by trying to stay awake. He catches my eye and I bite my lip, wanting to go out and take him inside.

" Molly! WHY?!" He shouted, sounding tormented. I'm so sorry John, I'm so sorry. I turn backwards to my own prisoner, and decide to reveal myself to Lyra. She was still in the coffin like box, and I hesitate before opening it, quite scared for my own life. She was a murderer, after all. I lift the lid and her hands come first, diving for my throat. Before I can stop her, she has bound out completely and though her hands are handcuffed, she manages to pin me down. Breathless, she drags her curls out her eyes and screams as she see's my face.

" You!" She screeches, and slaps me hard across the face. I try not to cry, I try to act tough against this beast of a woman. I get the gun from my pocket and point it right at her face, making her stop. She backs off me, pressing herself against the wall on her knees as I scramble up.

" Molly...why?" She whimpers, looking up at me like some poor dog.

" You know why." I reply bitterly, and she cocks her head, much like Jim did.

" You love him, right." She sighs, sitting back, defeated, hurt and exhausted.

" I just want to bring Sherlock back where he belongs, and Jim won't let that happen unless you go with him." I state, stammering as her blue eyes pin to me.

" So I have to be subjected to a life with him? I have to let him abuse and torture me, drive me insane again?" She replied, each prediction making her more and more angry and frustrated. I lower my gun and sit beside her, leaning against the wall. We stare out for a moment at the sea turning under the dark stormy sky.

" Don't let John die... Sherlock would never forgive me." Lyra says, as her eyes linger over John on the deck outside.

" I won't." I promise her, and we simply sit, waiting for the next turn of events.

Moriartys POV

I kick Sherlock like a football, guiding him down my ship's corridor as his blood leaves a trail behind us.

" Come on now, don't keep Lyra waiting!" I say with glee, as he struggles to even make it the next metre. Dom opens the door to the cabin where Molly and Lyra were sat as if two best friends. I watch as Lyra see's Sherlock in his pathetic state and squirm forward to hold his head and kiss it.

" Oh Sherlock, Sherlock." She murmurs, kissing his injuries with her delicate lips. I look away, the comforting was more nauseating than the sea. But this was the night, when I'd finally get what I deserve.

" Switch places, it's Lyra's turn." I command, and watch as their little faces panic.

" No...don't" Sherlock murmurs, too weak to fight back for Lyra as Dom picks her up. I watch as even he squirms under her hard gaze- attacking him silently with millions of questions about his choice of side.

Once we were back in my room, Dom directs Lyra to the chair.

" You can go." I say to him, and he reluctantly walks out with his head held down.

" What are you going to do to me?" Lyra groans, her hands tied behind her back. I step close and move a piece of her straggled hair out her mouth for her.

" Nothing, it's late. I want you to sleep with me tonight." I softly say to her, my eyes fixated on some far off corner of the room.

" That's rape, Jim." She backfires, making me smile in the light of things.

" Sleep, as in sleep. Come on, the doors locked so we can take these off." I assure her, and take the key to unlock the handcuffs. They clink onto the floor and I watch Lyra rub her delicate wrists, though there was no mark there. If this was to be the last night she lived... it should be with me. I avoided her eye as I undressed, then picked up some joggers to change into. Once I was done I passed Lyra one of my t shirts and she smirked.

" Oh I see, just like all those years ago." She caught on finally, then hesitated putting it on. " Will you look away?"

" No." I replied bluntly, and to my surprise, she stripped anyway. I licked my lips as she revealed her pasty smooth skin, taking off her dress. She stood in her underwear before putting the shirt on to cover herself up. She then kicked the dress away and crossed her arms over her chest.

" You look so young." I sigh weakly, wanting desperately for it really to be that night, before things had turned so nasty.

" Yeah, well. Sherlock will never know about this, okay?" She says, tearing me apart. I shrug my shoulders and lower my eyes to meet hers.

" He won't have enough time to find out." I snare and watch her face twist in confusion.

" You couldn't kill him...you couldn't. You need him." She shakes, and I turn away from her and get into the bed. Patting the side next to me, she complies, perhaps fearing if she didn't, Sherlock would die instantly.

" Sherlock's time will end...when the light of his life is gone." I murmur in the dark.

" You want to kill me?" She breathes, her scent washing over me like the waves.

" The light of his life is John, you are his darkness, you and I both Lyra." I finish, before turning off the light. I hear her snuffle, and then catch on to her disguising it as a cough.

Lyras POV

A few hours later, I am jolted up by the storm. It was bad, really bad. The room was shaking, I couldn't see anything as my body was thrown about. Then, as the ship lurches my body throws itself onto Jim. His arms immediately wrap around me, guarding me.

" It's alright, it's alright." He shushes, his eyes still closed, perhaps still half asleep. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but quickly realise if I do I'll likely be thrown off the bed.

" Lyra, stop wriggling about it's just a storm." Moriarty whispers, then stops as we're both lurched off the side of the bed.

" No it's not, you brought me here to kill me!" I scream, and climb on top of him, holding his throat in my hands. He claws and scratches at me, trying to push me off, but I was just as strong as he was. His eyes go dark and he punches me in the chest with such force I'm winded. I lie on top of him, trying to drag in oxygen but my lungs wouldn't take it. Then, red flashes all around the room and a siren sounds.

" What have you done!" I bawled, tears streaming down my eyes. The ship was sinking, Moriarty had doomed everyone, even the innocent who had no part in this. Dom, he was never supposed to be in danger, or Molly, or John. Jim then gasped and started laughing manically.

" Are you afraid of death, Lyra Harley!" He screeches, and then leans forward and grabs my chin. He forces his lips onto mine and in the air of certain death, of oblivion, I let him. My tears plant onto his cheeks and I wail as I let him.

" Jim...I'm sorry." I cry, regret washed over me. I wanted the darkness, in my final hour, I wanted it to be him. I had tried to hard to feel safe, but it was always going to be like this. I was always going to be his creation. I had tried to mould myself into someone different, into Sherlock's wife, into someone comfortable.

" Lyra...stop." Moriarty breathes, and pulls away from me. " We need to get out of here." He leaves me for a moment as I lie on the floor, my brain felt like It was about to explode. I couldn't do it- I couldn't. The teeth were coming out, I was going to the devil. He was coming for me. I wailed as I tore myself between two selves, trying desperately to cling onto one. But hollow emptiness met me, I was left helpless once again. Jim dressed back into his suit and dressed me back into my dress then took my hand. Wrenching the door open, we struggled across the rocking corridor. The floor was wet, but we were on the bottom floor, so the ship was in it's early ages of sinking. He leads me up the stairs and we're back on the deck. John was screaming in fear, lying like a pathetic dog on the wood. Molly then appears, leading Sherlock and John onto the outside.

" Jim what the hell have you done?!" She screamed, and I immediately wrench my hand out of Moriartys. He turns back to me with fury in his eyes.

" Drown then!" He shouts, as I support myself on the railing. " My helicopter will be arriving soon, all can come but the dog." He laughs, pointing at John. I watch as Sherlock's face scrunches up, trying to find a solution. I look at him in pity- no Sherlock, there was nothing to figure out. He would either leave with the rest of us, or die with John here.

" Moriarty don't do this! Lyra is not the girl you think she is. You're holding onto this pathetic dream of how things should be. DON'T LET JOHN PAY FOR YOUR INSANITY!" He screams and his lungs show the torment inside of him. I hold onto my chest still trying to drag in proper oxygen. Molly stands helpless, as Dom supports a beaten and weak Sherlock. I peer out at the dark sea and then duck down as another wave crashes into the cruise liner, holding onto the railing desperately It was starting to tip, we didn't have much time left. Then, sounds of helicopters appear and Moriarty looks up, laughing wickedly and outstretches his arms.

" The time has come Sherlock! Leave John forever and have Lyra, or come with us!" He taunts.

" Jim Moriarty, put your hands behind your head!" The helicopter speaker blasts out, and all of our heads turn to it. Then, we see through the window, Mycroft Holmes.

" Sorry Jim, but nothing could make me as mad as you for her." Dom then steps forward, staring Moriarty down as his final plan falls apart in front of him. The helicopter flies above us as Mycroft ascends from the ladder. Even I was shocked, he cared so much for his brother.

" Sherlock, we have to get off this boat now." He commands, and Sherlock grabs me into his arms. Everything happened all at once, and I was numb to it all. I felt as though I was watching it happen from above, SAS members huddling us up. I watched as Moriarty unshackled John, who then ran to us. Sherlock genuinely hugged him, tears in his eyes.

" I'm so sorry John." He cries, and I turn away, unable to bear it. We were going home... but not my home, theirs. My home was...somewhere else. The flashing lights of the helicopter blinded me, and the sound was deafening.

" Sherlock...I'm so happy you're alive." I say, unable to comprehend anything else. I look up at the wondrous man, he deserved to live, he wanted to live, he had friends to live for, he had a life he wanted. I then turn my head and scream. Moriarty, with John's shackled attached to his feet was standing on the edge of the boat with his arms outstretched to the heavens. The world then went slow, it's true what they say about your last seconds. My head leaves my body, and my feet run, they sprint. My face stretches my voice is hoarse as I scream his name. I reach him, and just before I try to pull him back, he turns around, his face livid. Tugging me forcefully, we fall together. The last sound I hear is Sherlock's pain. The blow of hitting the surface was enough to knock me into some subconscious state. My body didn't struggle, it wouldn't respond. With Moriarty's arms around me, we only sink. Our lives, our darkness, is nothing in the deep emptiness of the sea. We are simply two bodies, sinking forever. Jim's last act of love was entwining his fingers in mine, and kissing me. Our minds had left our bodies, and we were free, we were going home.

Death, as much as you'd like it not to be, truly is a cliché. I saw all my moments, every last one and it felt like it lasted for hours. All the people that mattered. But then, my insane mind eases the pain of death as it starts to play the Blue Danube Waltz, taking me to my favourite moment. It was my first evening under the imprisonment of Moriary, when I was 17 years old. This was before I had killed any of his enemies, I had dressed in my red gown to impress him. I am transported back into that body, into that time. I breathe, nervous and descend the stairs. But the memory was altered, I stand, tall and beautiful in front of everyone, rather than just Moriarty and Sebastian. They smile at me as I descend, one step at a time gracefully. I can feel nothing but gratitude. Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, Lestrade all nod at me and smile. Mary and little Effy wave and I reach out to the innocent child- with all her life ahead of her. Then, Sherlock and John. Sherlock isn't angry, he isn't mourning, he is understanding. He always did work things out. John smiles warmly, and then I turn to my last man. Jim offers his arm politely, and I take it willingly. Sebastian then opens the door- just as he did that night, but all that is outside the door is darkness, pure darkness. I breathe, nervous to leave it all. But It was time, Jim's lips brush my cheek and I turn so that it turns into a passionate kiss. I glance once more at all the people that made my life, and exit the door with the man that both made and ended it. There was nothingness, it had been an extraordinary life. Thank you.

5 years later

Sherlocks POV

I scribble onto my notepad as I sit on the grainy sand. The sky was grey and the wind was against me, but the beach was never the less enjoyable. A streak of red is then drawn on my notes by a tiny pair of hands. I look up and see Effy smirking up at me, proud of her sabotage.

" Oh, Effy, what have you done!" Mary exclaims, picking the 6 year old up as she giggles.

" Perfectly fine, Mary. I think it's an improvement." I joke, and sit up to progress down the beach. I lead the group as we stare out to the grey sea. In the distance, I make out a woman in a long silver coat with brunette locks. Peering, I think it genuinely could be The Woman. She turns in my direction for a moment, and then makes her way down the other end of the beach. We reach where she was stood, and look down at the engraving on the cross.

" In memory of Lyra Harley and Jim Moriarty." It stated, simple and clean. No bodies, just a memory. John pats me on the back as I stare down at it. A picture of her was next to it, perhaps the Woman had left it, it was her happy in what looked like some bar. There was no photo of Moriarty.

" You know, I did actually get a photo of him when he was pretending to be my boyfriend." Molly smiled, once again her ill-timing of light jokes playing against her. I smile as she rolls her eyes at herself, then wince, putting a hand on her swollen stomach.

" Is everything alright?" I ask, concerned for the baby. She smiles up at me and I kiss her on the forehead. Little Effy then jumps around her for attention and her, Molly and John waver off to give me time to myself. I kneel before the cross and simply stare. Death had never scared me, but once you saw someone you care about go so quickly, it hits you like a bolt of lightning. Life was so precious, and I would have probably lost either mine or John's should I have held on to Lyra that night. I will never know, if she had ran to go with him or stop him, I hoped for the latter. But it was in the past, and another life had been granted onto me. Molly had wept for weeks, blaming herself. Dom had confessed he had been on our side all along and was waiting to call Mycroft in when Moriarty was marooned. But Molly, she had allowed herself to go mad for me.

I turn to the sea and look at the stretch of water, knowing she and him were in there somewhere. Her eyes become the ocean, clear and understanding.

" I hope you're happy, Lyra Harley." I murmur to myself, with no bitterness in my tone. I catch up to my pregnant wife and my best friend and his family, a life I had never expected had been bestowed upon me. And we were happy.


	31. Chapter 31

Watch the trailer, and look forward to either jumping for joy or having many questions.

watch?v=cjFgr4fOKKQ&feature=

Didn't really think I'd leave it like that did you? New chapters coming!


	32. Chapter 32

Johns POV

"Sherlock, you can't teach a foetus quantum physics." I sighed, as he waved his hands in front of Molly's belly, blurting out explanations pointlessly. He stopped, tied up his dressing gown in another knot and stood up, looking irritated as Molly simply sat smiling up at him.

"I know that John- but it's less annoying than trying to teach one of you." He remarked." He has my brains, no doubt he will really."

Mary was helping Mrs Hudson in the kitchen with Christmas Dinner, it was Effy's fifth Christmas now, and she was in her princess phase. Sat on my lap in a full Snow White costume, she was gobbling on a mince pie happily. It had stopped snowing now, and the streets outside were covered in the grey sludge left behind from the snow. But besides that, looking around, everyone was happy, and we had been, for a while now. I suppose it is my mind-set to think good things rarely ever last, but perhaps this time they will.

"Dinners ready!" Mary shouted a little too loudly, and we all got up to go to the table. Molly went eagerly first with a stomach for two, holding hands with Effy as me and Sherlock lagged behind.

"So how many extra chairs will it take before you move out of here?" I ask, watching everyone cram themselves in, chatting eagerly. "I don't see any reason to move out." He simply replied, looking at the happy family in an aloof manner. It seemed to be Sherlock was yet to clock on that he was going to be a FATHER, and couldn't stay the same forever, he had to move on from Baker Street. "Mrs Hudson would miss me too much." He added with a smirk, taking his seat. I shook my head in disbelief, and followed.

Moriartys POV Pain woke me up. My head pounded so much it was hard to open my eyes, to stretch my fingers. Squinting through my eyelids, I saw I was looking up at a harsh light, and the walls around it were white. I was lying down, though I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything. Please, tell me I can use my legs. As the panic set in, a man in a white coat walked in excitedly followed by two black nurses.

" James...can you speak?" Was the first thing he said, looking gravely concerned for me. We couldn't have that, pitiful looks weren't supposed to be aimed at a consulting criminal.

" Yes." I croaked, my voice sounded deeper than I remembered. Come to think of it, what could I remember? Water...and her.

" Excellent, let's try and get you up and we can sort this mess out. This is going to be a shock, but you've been in a coma for 5 years. " He smiled, and I complied as I let the nurses heave me up. 5 years was nothing, it certainly didn't feel it. They set my legs on the ground and supported my anxiously as I stood. I let out a sigh of relief, I could walk.

They tried to put me in a wheelchair anyway, but I refused and followed the doctor into his office, past the sick and dying. I needed answers, I needed to know what had happened to her. I couldn't get my hopes up, it would only lead to disappointment.

" Well, James-" He started.

" Jim." I stated over him, a shiver going down my spine at the sound of such a common name. The one I was unfortunately given.

" Jim, sorry. You've been very lucky, you were found by a fisherman and his crew, who took you back here to London. Can you remember that?" He asked, looking down at me through his thick and untamed eyebrows. He had said you, perhaps I was the only one.

" Yes." I lied, not wanting to be stuck here any longer for them to try and teach me my past, then they would have to learn it. Which would result in my arrest, obviously. " Extraordinary...I'm afraid she hasn't been as blessed." He said gravely, and my whole body tensed. " She's alive?" I breathe, leaning forward in my chair, curling my fists, practically feeling her hair between my fingers. " She is, but her brain is as good as dead. She can't speak. She's been awake here for months, but we haven't made any progress. " He confessed, and I wanted to stab myself. How could she have been so badly affected? It should have been me. Will she still be Lyra? " Can I go see her?" I ask, hoisting myself out my seat before I hear his answer. " Of course, but you'll have to be cautious. It may be a bit of a shock. I don't know what she remembers." He sighs, but I'm already out the door, going as fast as my weak limbs would take me.

I asked a nearby nurse and she took me to her, in the psychiatric ward. She pointed down the hallway and left me there. I turned the corner, anticipating the worst.

She was by the window, staring out with her chin drooping down, not high and proud as it used to be. Her hair was a tangled mess, she looked sedated. All around her, it was all the crazies, but I knew she wasn't hopeless. There had to be hope.

I walked over to her, the last time I had seen her she was dying in my arms, as much as I could remember. Then, I think she passed out, and I had to get us afloat on my own. "Lyra." I tested, and she heard me. Her neck twisted slowly my way, half resting on her own shoulders, like a used out puppet. She knew her name, and I saw she knew me. Her eyes widened, and she tried to speak. A string of dribble ran down her chin, and she could only garble. I wiped it off gently and looked her right in the eye.

"We're going to get you out of here." I whispered, there was no way in hell we could stay. If I had to cure her myself, so be it. And perhaps I could tell her our story without mentioning the fact she was once loved Sherlock. It's as they say, everything happens for a reason. I looked out the window of St. Barts Hospital at the snow falling, figuring out our escape route.

Sherlocks POV I watched as everyone sat back in the chairs, full to the brim. I had eaten, to begin with. Molly winced as she got up and I instantly but my hand on her back to help her.

"It's fine." She muttered with a weak smile." Just need the loo." She waddled off and I relaxed. John pulled a cracker with Effy who won, and earned herself a little plastic ring. Mary smiled warmly over at me, she knew her daughter had inherited her strength.

I stood up and wandered over to my clue map stuck up on the wall. Photos, maps, the homeless network's evidence. It was an easy case, I was just being lazy. I hadn't had the time to do anything for Scotland Yard in years, only the small stuff from my own clients.

"Got any further?" John asked whilst clearing his throat, walking over to join me. I smirked as he pretended he knew what the case was about, that he could help. He was so desperate to get back into the game. But there was no real game, only side distractions. "Parents staged the kidnap after they sedated the child and accidentally killed her." I murmured, it was only one of my many deductions. "Wasn't that in the headlines?" He replied, and I had to admit, it was the one time the news got it right.

Then, I heard a cry from the bathroom. I looked at John. "Mary." I realized, and bounded for the door, but it was locked. "Mary, what is it?! What's wrong? Open the door! "Sherlock, I can't get up!" She cried out, there was pain in her voice. I bolted into the door and the weak wood gave in almost instantly. I clambered in to a mess, blood was everywhere. Molly was bent over in shock. "Oh my god." John gasped, and Mary quickly put Effy in the other room so she wouldn't see. John dialled the ambulance as my mind collapsed, trying to think what to do. I picked her up and carried her out as she wept. "It's fine, we're going to Barts. It'll be okay." I hushed, but I knew. I knew it and she knew it. Our baby was dead. 


	33. Chapter 33

Sherlocks POV

I paced down the grey corridor of the hospital, looking out for any sign of some help. John pushed Molly behind me, trying to keep up.

" It's going to be alright, just calm down and we'll get you a doctor." John kept on repeating, though he was mostly drowned out by Molly's sobbing. Every cry was like a bullet in the chest to me.

" For god's sake John you're a doctor! Can't you do something?!" I yelled out of frustration. " I was a bloody army doctor Sherlock, I didn't handle babies!" He shouted back.

Just then, a nurse spots us and calls for a doctor. Before I knew it, Molly was put on a stretcher and taken into the surgery. I followed the doctor inside, needing answers.

" Will she-?" I started, before the doctor started making orders to the staff. " We will need to perform a c-section, Mr. Holmes, I can't promise anything. I'm sure you know what is likely to happen to your son, but we must act quickly if we are to save your wife." He stated to me, looking at me with eyes that had clearly seen this sort of tragedy before, countless times.

I sat outside the room, waiting in despair. I kept seeing Molly's eyes as they drooped, just as they were putting her under for the operation. I had been holding on to her hand, and would only let go when the nurse made me leave. Tapping my foot on the floor as John sat next to me with his arms folded, I was in agony.

Moriartys POV

I peered out the window at the falling snow. I was so tired...so exhausted...so weak. It would be some time before I could go back into the game, and even longer for Lyra. I glanced over at her, sat still in her chair, her eyes fixated on some spot on the floor. She still couldn't speak. But all I wanted was to hear her voice. She seemed to understand me, but could only nod slowly when I had told her the plan.

The bell rung and I grinned, show time. It was time to get out of this hellhole. Lyra did just as I asked her, and pretended to have some sort of fit. The nurses rushed over to her as her noise woke up all the other patients, and soon the room was full of wails and screams of the mad. I snuck behind the desk and into the locker room.

Shutting the door behind me and checking no one was inside, I took off my hospital gown in one pull, standing naked as I rummaged around for scrubs. I picked up a blue pair and wrenched them on, and quickly got myself back out. The nurses had run off to the supply closet for the medicine, now was my chance. I darted to Lyra and wheeled her out the ward, into the corridor. I pressed the button on the lift- several times.

" Come on, Come on." I muttered, then it opened, completely empty. I sighed and wheeled Lyra in to the back and pressed the ground floor button. The lift shuddered down, and each stop people got on. By the time we got to the first floor me and Lyra were wedged into the corner, keeping our faces down from the staff. The lift slowed down again, and a beat passed before the doors opened to reveal the next boarder.

Sherlock Holmes kept his eyes down as he entered, and immediately turned his back on the rest of us. My insides froze, no, no he couldn't be here. Why is he here?! I felt Lyra tug on my shirt, and I look down to see her pointing at my hand, which was tightly squeezing her shoulder. My knuckles were white, and my nails had been digging into her. I must have gripped on when I saw him. Thank God Lyra couldn't see him, I didn't want her to remember Sherlock.

After what seemed like a thousand years, the lift arrived on the ground floor. Sherlock stormed out...I had to know where he was going. As soon as we got out, I got Lyra into a spare room near the back door.

" Stay here, don't make a sound. I'll be back soon." I promise her, whilst she just looked at me with a puzzled expression. I then follow the crowd near to where Sherlock was, and see a sign for the viewing room of the surgery. I open the door and peer through the window, to see Sherlock walking in on an apparent c-section.

A miscarriage. I turned my head at the earliest death possible, a small baby was next to the doctors and the married couple. I watched as Sherlock broke down, crying on the still unconscious Molly Hooper's belly. His body shuddered, as a nurse patted him on the back. They thought they knew pain, they knew nothing. This is what you get Sherlock, for letting people in. I then see him raise his head slowly, and it takes me a second to register he was looking right into my eyes.

I get out as fast as I can, not sure if he even saw me at all, or if he recognized me. Perhaps he would think he had gone mad. My thoughts spiraled in my brain as I sprinted back to Lyra. We had to get out of here. I bolted open the door and picked her up out her wheelchair. Carrying her outside the back door, my men waited with the Mercedes to take us away. I put Lyra in the back seat and clambered in. Turning my head to the window, I see Sherlock and John run past the door.

" Drive!" I shout, and the driver speeds off. I feel John's hands come down with a slam on the boot, and I dare not turn around. They couldn't be sure, they just wanted to see. Sherlock is wise enough to know what he see's can be deceiving. They knew us as dead, and that is how we would stay to them.

Sherlocks POV

I watched as the black car sped off, desperately trying to re-see that face. The menacing face in the window. My logic told me it was the grief, I had lost my unborn son, and my demons had come back to haunt me. But my gut told me something else...something wasn't right.

" She's dead Sherlock, they died together and that is that." John explained as he walked back into the hospital. " I know. It doesn't matter now, I need to know when Molly wakes up." I sighed, dreading the time I would have to tell her. I thought of the painted nursery back home and almost broke my composure, the nursery that would never be used. No, we could still have children, this wasn't the end. An inner voice in my head taunted me though, whispering to me. " Do you really want a child, Sherlock?" It said, but I shook my head, casting it away.

I woke up after sleeping on the armchair next to Molly's bed, feeling groggy and weak. I blinked my eyes a couple of times, and saw Molly was awake, sitting upright. " Where is our son, Sherlock?" She barely whispered, forcing me to answer. I plead her with my eyes to not, but she need me to say it, she needed to know it was real. " He's gone." I say as my voice cracks. She is silent for a moment, then warm tears dribble down her cheeks. I climb into her bed and rock her as she cries more and more. I wipe them as they come, and it is all I can do for now as our whole world is ripped apart.

We arrive back home after being discharged from the hospital, and Molly goes straight to bed. I tell her I'll be there after some reading. Once I knew she was asleep, I climb up on my armchair and scan my bookshelf for it. I spot the dusty copy and draw it out, setting it down on my desk. I take my seat and open the first page. Her eyes were like a looking glass into another world, another time. Her long dark hair was knotted and tangly, but her smile was so alive. I shut it before one second has passed, feeling guilty.

I had not let myself miss her, I had not let myself imagine a reality where she hadn't died. I burnt the book in the fireplace, letting the flames take her just as the sea did. I climbed back into bed with Molly and held her, for she was my home always. 


	34. Chapter 34

Moriartys POV

" Lyra for god's sake- eat it, don't wear it." I exhaled, mopping food of Lyra's top for the third time. She truly was just a vegetable, though a very beautiful vegetable at that. I twirled the pasta around my fork and held it up in front of her mouth. Slowly, she opened and started to chew. I waited until she had swallowed, then sat back and relaxed.

" See? Not that hard. You need the muscles back in your mouth, you used to be a great kisser." I grinned.

Lyra frowned at me, forgetting once more what I had told her a thousand times. " Fucking hell Lyra, how many times?! We are together. Okay? You'll remember, soon enough."

Later that night, I was sat in bed listening to the storm outside- lost in my head. How long would I have to endure this? Staying inside, looking after her, caring for her until she was well again? Well enough to become my criminal again... and well enough for other things too. I groaned and dragged my hands down my face. I wanted her so much, and I could have her. But I wouldn't until she told me she loved me, and remembered. I had to control myself.

" Mr. Moriarty, Lyra would like to see you." I heard my butler say, so I sat up, shoving away my notebook full of plans and crazed sketches of Sherlock's name. Lyra entered and the butler shut the door behind her.

" Lyra, what is it? Sit down, don't stand up." I garble, rushing forward to cup her hands in mine. Jesus, I was like a needy dog. She looked as though she was going to cry, and then I realised she had put a piece of paper in my hands. I uncrumpled it and frowned at the scribble. Then, I realised it was her attempt of a drawing, a drawing of Sebastian.

" Well, it's not what I hoped you'd recall but it's a start. You're remembering!" I encourage her, stroking her hair to show her I was proud. I was desperate to pull it, and then pin her down. Blinking a few times, I shook myself out my dark fantasies. " I wish you could speak." I added, smiling down at her. She smiled shyly back and then, to my suprise, walked over to my bed and got herself under the covers. To my dismay, she went straight to sleep. I climbed in next to her all the same, turned off the side lights and rested my hand on her arm, keeping her there.

BANG! The firing of a gun woke me up, as Lyra somehow managed to sleep through it. Bleary eyed and tired, I grabbed my own handgun and stormed down the hall. There, stood Irene Adler with her hands clasped around my butlers throat.

" Let him go, Irene." I sighed, and she dropped him as she turnt to see me, her mouth dropping too.

" So it's true." She smirked, and waltzed over to me. What was she doing here? Irene's eyes then diverted to the door, the sleeping Lyra in full view." And her, gosh."

" She's not well." I state bitterly, not in the mood at all for Irene and her games.

" I heard, can't speak, can barely walk?" She tantalized.

"How do you know that?" I question firmly, then realise."Let me guess, you know the doctor."

"I know what he likes. So this is your life now, caring after a dribbling girl inside? I thought a return from the dead would be more...dramatic." She drawled, reaching out to touch my face. I forced her hand away. Any touch other than Lyra's felt like a disease being passed on, and Irene carried the deadliest.

"You tell Sherlock, and I'll pull your red fingernails out and cut your eyes out with them." Was the last thing I said to her before she was gone out the window, having got what she came for, the truth. I watched the woman run down the street, graceful and sure. Then, she was gone.

I stood there for a while longer, breathing in the chilly winter air. London was in my lungs, and Lyra was in my heart. Even so, I found myself writing his name on the fogged up glass. Sherlock. How was I going to show myself? He might already know...

The days blurred into weeks, I found myself repeating the same day over and over. I'd made no progress, I hadn't even been able to leave the house. The hours were filled with noisy silence, thinking and tears. She cried a lot, but for no reason. We had endured so many lessons, of me teaching her her past up to now. I looked over at her on the breakfast bar, feeling anger building up. I had managed to contain it, I had to keep containing it. I had to be what she thinks I am.

" We're going out." I announce, and she looks up, shocked. Fuck this, I need to get her out, we couldn't play safe forever.

We stood side by side near the Gherkin buildings, one of my favourites. It emitted power, greed and wealth. Both of us were simply people watching, and I took note as Lyra's eyes followed a young and cheesy couple holdings hands. I was yet to teach her affection.

" In time." I assure her when she looks up at me, knowing full well thats not exractly the sort of 'affection' I had in mind for her. For now, I had to contain the monster.

Just then, loud screaming overpowers the noise of traffic, and I look behind me to see people were being evacuated out the skyscraper. I instantly put my arm around Lyra, sensing something...something bad. An explosion booms, making Lyra cover her ears. Glass shatters down from one of the top floors and more screams follow. Then, I see it was a terrorist attack, at least it looked like one. Why today? Why now? I'm knocked constantly by people running away, as I simply stand with Lyra in the middle of the crowd. I then realise her hair isn't in my fingers anymore, and I whip around to see she had been taken. Someone in the crowd.

" Jesus, NO!" I roar and sprint off through the crowd. I push the escapees over, but everyone's trying to get away from the attack incase there's a second bomb. I stare around, looking for her long brown locks, but I couldn't see her anywhere. My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to suffer from an attack, I felt faint. A yellow taxi light flickers off and I see it drive off, but it had no registration plate. Only one momentary glance through the window and I knew she was in there, a bag being put over her head.

Sherlocks POV

The sound of the woman's sensual sigh stops the noise of the room. Molly is the first to look over, knowing exactly where my phone was. She looked over at me, questioning me with her eyes.

" Isn't that-" John started, before I sighed and walked over to pick it up from my desk. Opening the text message, I read her words.

A gift waiting for you in Belgravia. X

I frowned at it for a little while, allowing the tension in the room to thicken just for a while. Molly sat up from the couch." Sherlock, what was that?" She asked, worrying as she always does.

" Irene Adler. Somethings wrong, John-" I reply, grabbing my coat as John is already getting his shoes on, eager as ever. " Molly, there's something I have to do, I'll be back soon." I promise, kissing her on the forehead. Things had been morbid since the miscarriage, and I didn't want to leave her, but curiousity overpowered me.

Hailing a cab to Belgravia, I waited silently for John to begin the questioning.

" What exactly did she say?" Was his first question, to which I merely showed him the message on my phone, thinking too deeply to use actual words. " Right..." He muttered. " What do you think it is?"

" I don't know." I admitted, I would try to figure out a logical guess if Moriarty's face didn't keep blurring my thoughts.

I pressed the buzzer on her door, waiting for her partner, Kate to let us in. I then get a second text, this time from Lestrade. Checking it quickly, I see he's telling me there's been a terrorist attack at the Gherkin. Could be a coincidence. The universe is rarely so lazy, Mycroft's words echo in my head.

The door infront of us then opens, but instead of the pale redhead a tall, intimidating looking guardman stands in front of us. None of us say anything as he turns and leads us down the hallway. We turn into Adler's living room and there I see her, hands tied up behind her wrist and mouth taped over. Irene's eyes widened at me, looking so alone on the wooden floor surrounded by these men. It was a trap, my mind registers. I curse myself inwardly for expecting to find someone else here.

" What do you want?" I ask the men. One of them, a dark skinned man stepped closer to me, the clear leader of their little pack.

" Mr. Holmes, we want this city." He whispers. " You may have already heard but we've already taken the Gherkin, soon it will be the whole goddamn country." I roll my eyes at the hopeless dribble.

" Take over the world? How original. And why do you need any of us?" I ask him, my eyes equal to his and staring right through them. I've seen monsters, and this man was no hell I hadn't encountered before. To my suprise, he looks between me and Irene and starts laughing hysterically.

" Oh Jesus! He doesn't know!" He cackles, pointing at me whilst bending over as John shifts, ready for action. " Let's just say, Sherlock. Us guys have been under that spider's thumbs before, and when he died, the city was ours. We had no controller. But now... now he's back. And we're not going down without a fight." He was serious now, the light of amusement wiped from his face in an instant.

" Who's back?" I ask, sounding painfully simple but I needed a name.

" The hell, the fire, the monster. London's going to go up in flames Mr. Holmes. Unless you promise to stay out of our way, we'll kill her." He threatens, cocking his head towards Irene. Again, I wanted to roll my eyes at this soap drama, but this was serious. He meant it, they wanted to control the city.

A shot fires, and before I know it one of the mysterious man's guards is down, his shirt soaked with blood. They all get our their weapons but one by one, they are all on the ground. Then, my brother, Danny jumps in through the window, his rifle in hand. He unbinds Irene and aims at the leader. I smirk, it was all too easy. But then, the man pulls out a remote from his pocket.

" Not so fast Mr. Big Shot, she's not the only hostage. You shoot me, I'll blow this whole street up." He grins, holding his hands up apologetically. " And don't think I don't mean it, I've already got blood on my hands from this afternoon." He nods out the window at the darkening sky, where police sirens could still be heard.

" And I have the clippers." An irish drawl sounds, and I turn slowly at his voice. There, in the doorway stood Moriarty, smirking. One hand in his pocket casually and one kissing a pair of ordinary looking garden clippers. " Handy little buggers." He adds, his eyes meeting mine.

" You're dead..." John whispers. " Not again..." He stands there in disbelief. I only had one question for the consulting criminal, but had the stronger sense of pride to stop me from asking if she was alive aswell.

" Not quite." Hello, Sherlock Holmes." Jim says as he makes his way over to the other criminal, who suddenly looked very frightened. " Your bombs are dismantled Jones, now stop this."

" I can't. There's a whole army out there Moriarty, all after your head. London will-"

" Burn- yes, I got that." Moriarty interuppted, alike to Sherlock, he couldn't stand the man's corniness. " I'l meet you on the battlefield." He told him, before grabbing his collar and shoving him up against the wall. He whispered something in his ear.

" Upstairs." Jones coughed, and Moriarty let him go. As he slid to the floor, catching his breath, Moriarty grabbed Danny's rifle and knocked Jones out cold. Danny looked lost, unsure of whether to try and handcuff Moriarty.

" Mycroft and Lestrade are on their way." He mentions to Sherlock. " They need your help."

" All of you get out of this house now. I am the one with the rifle after all." Moriarty murmured, even though he said it quietly, he managed to silence the room.

" Do as he says." I command them, and Moriarty looks over to me. I hold his gaze as John, Danny and Irene walk out the house. Moriarty turns on his heel and runs up the stairs, looking for something...or someone. I close the door in John's face, deciding to hide somewhere and find out what.

Moriartys POV

I ascend the stairs two steps at a time, eyes darting about for Lyra. So, some crooks took her to spite me for coming back...and now they want to burn London...and me...and Sherlock. A war was coming, I could feel it. The criminal network was against me, against Sherlock too. I shake my head, this had messed up the plan. Sherlock was now plainly aware of the fact I was alive, and no doubt he knew that meant Lyra had to be too.

I cautiously open one door at a time, checking for hidden traps, for Lyra's face. As each door passes I get more and more panicked. The final one at the bottom of the hallway was already ajar, and I peer my head round the door to see. In plain sight, Sherlock was stood, pointing a gun at me whilst Lyra was sat tied up, helpless and confused. Sherlock stared at me with cold hard contempt.

" You ought to be a little faster next time, Moriarty." He spat. He had got to her first, and a fire was emitting from the man's heart.


	35. Chapter 35

Sherlocks POV

My foot creaked as I pressed it on the bedroom floor, wanting to run at him as I watched him enter the room. I saw he was thinking, where to go, what to go? I had him now, and it was hard not to gloat.

"Tell me how you did it." I demand him, my eyes boring into his beetle ones. He shrugged at me.

"Nothing to tell my dear. We were saved." He smirked and took one step closer to me. I wanted to shoot him but that would be so painfully simple. "Let her go...you have no business with her anymore."

"What have you done to her? Why won't she speak?" I bark at him, making Lyra flinch. When I had walked into the room and found her there before Jim, I wanted her to jump into my arms, to be glad to see me, to thank me for saving her from this mad man. But no sound came from her lips.

" I haven't done anything, her jump caused the brain damage. I'm teaching her to get better." Jim replies softly, as he starts to circle us." You need to leave, Sherlock. Leave us."

Just as he leans in, we hear someone come in. I turn to see Mycroft, Lestrade and Danny in the doorway.

" That's not possible. Not again..." Mycroft gasped, and I rolled my eyes at my older brother.

"Mycroft, you should be dealing with the terrorist attack. I'll take care of this one..." I sneer, as Jim takes a step further back from Danny who was still holding his rifle.

"Actually, we are going to need him. This terrorist attack, it's going to filter right through our system." Mycroft cocks his chin up to me, then looks over at Jim." Mr. Moriarty, your network had all the criminals of London under your thumb and they've all gone haywire burning down the city. We need you to put them back in their place without overcrowding our prisons."

Moriarty laughed loudly, then put his hands to his face to calm himself down as I stood, shocked at what my brother was asking of him. Surely we couldn't be on the same side?

" Very good, . Very good. This should be interesting." He chuckled, then started to stroke Lyras hair." I'll make you a deal. I'll help you get all these freaks back where they belong, if you let Lyra stay with me. I'm sure Sherlock can help find these terrorists, and I can help get...rid of them."

" Mycroft are you seriously consulting with a consulting criminal?!" I shout, ridiculed by the whole situation. I looked over at Lestrade who gave me a " But we need him" look.

" Yes, Sherlock. He's better alive than dead to us now- I'm not sure what use Miss Lyra could be...seems a little...off." He mumbled, eyes wandering over to Lyra.

Moriartys POV

" She's fine." I stated loudly, feeling suddenly very defensive." You can get up now." I whisper to Lyra, and I help her stand. I feel all the men's eyes in the room watch her cautiously.

"I don't trust you with her. Mycroft, can't you let her a room again?" Sherlock accused, desperate to take her away from me. Not this time Sherlock, you have your own one now.

" She needs a hospital Moriarty, she needs care-" Lestrade started, taking a step forward and offering his hand to Lyra.

" GET OFF!" I shouted, grabbing Lyra around the throat suddenly.

"She needs protection! It's chaos out there!" Sherlock growled, suddenly on his toes as I tighten my grip around Lyra. I lunge forward and knock his handgun out his hand. It skates across the wooden floor and I grab it before they can get to me.

"Till the next time gentlemen!" I sing, grabbing the rope hanging out the window in Adler's ensuite. It had always been useful. Me and Lyra land on the street in a tumble, and after doing a quick checkover her I grab her hand to run. But Sherlock wasn't giving up that easily. Gunshots fired from behind me, and I whipped my head around to see him and his brother, Danny coming after us.

" Hold my hand!" I bellow at Lyra, who looked frightened out her wits. I held mine out and she took hold of it tightly, letting me lead her. We turned a corner and saw a gang heading towards us, armed with home made weapons. Jesus, these riots are escalating quickly. I hesitate, not knowing where to go, risk Lyra with the gang or let Sherlock get her. A car skids round and the door opens.

"Get in!" Irene Adler shouts from the back seat, as Kate drove. I immediately jumped in, but as I did I felt Lyra's fingers slip through mine.

"No!" I cry and turn around to see Danny manhandling her like a child, as she kicked and screamed. Sherlock looked overwhelmed, realizing he had chased and caught a ticking time bomb. Then, to make things even worse, the gang came up, knives at the ready.

" Leave us!" Sherlock commanded them, but their English was poor and all they wanted was to be part of the violence.

" The rich men die today!" One of them called as I rolled my eyes. Uneducated people with weapons, London really was in for it this time. But then, one of them takes a swipe at Lyra. I try to get out the car, but Irene grabs me round the neck with her own pocket knife aimed at my throat.

"For gods sake Jim, she'll never learn if she can't fight her own battles." She hisses. Every bone in my body wanted to save her, but I knew she was right.

Danny swings Lyra out the way and gets his gun out, threatening them with it, ready to get blood on his hands. Interesting...perhaps he isn't so much on the good side as his brothers. Sherlock outstretches his arms to cover the two, but a small boy, who could only be about 14 ducked under him. My heart jolted as he came up to Lyra with a knife. Lyra hesitated, her brain registering it all too slowly. Then, the boy lunged at her torso and slashed, but only lightly. A red mark emerged on her white clothes, but I had to tell myself she was fine. She had to be, but Sherlocks face read worry.

To our amazement, Lyra see's the red and something turns in her head- she kicks the boy round the head and knocks him down to the floor. She takes his knife and hauls him up, looking at the gang. Without saying a word, they understand she was blackmailing them.

"Don't kill him, he is my son. Please. We will leave you." One of them cries, and she lets them, not taking her eyes off them till they are gone out of our sight. Sherlock, still determined, grabs her arm.

" Lyra, come with me." He urges, but she snaps her arm away, eyes burning into him, and I could finally see Lyra cracking her shell of damage. She had emerged from the shadows better then ever.

"I am his, and he is mine." She declared, and looked over to me with a look I had been waiting my entire life for. "I love Moriarty." London boomed once more with explosions, lighting the match of the oncoming fire to spread and burn the city with riots. But no bomb could match what was erupting within me.


End file.
